


Ill Lit Ships

by Jya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Consensual but Violent Sex, Eventual Fluff, Graphic Description, M/M, Minor Character Death, More angst, OikawaAngstFest2k17, Pretty Boys, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, boys in makeup, dub-con? probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9927062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jya/pseuds/Jya
Summary: ~This room is just for one night but they never will let you go. Just close those hopeful eyes, and this never will let you go~He can't play volleyball anymore. This is how he survives, day by day.Here is the ghost of a life left behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Omg what have I done??  
> This is rough and graphic and angst filled. You have been warned!

“Oi! Get out of there, kid!”

The pounding came on the door as it so often did.

“Customers only!”

He ignored it.

Thin slender fingers with nails painted in onyx dragged soft gold powder across pale eyelids, pushing it up into the indent of his eyebrow. He shook off the brush, dipping it in the burnt amber colour and dusting that across the crease. He closed the palate and pulled out the gel liner, forming a perfect accentuating line and ending it in a thin but bold wing.

He had it down to a science. Feminine, pretty, but not over the top.

A quick brush with the mascara and onto the nude lipstick. He liked the soft pink colour better, but it was too easily and obviously disrupted.

He dropped the make up bag back into his satchel then retrieved his hair brush.

Another bang on the door.

“I swear to god I’m going to break this door down!”

He would have to forgo the hair clips tonight. He quickly pulled the brush through his hair, tossed a bit of mouse in and rinsed his hands.

Finally he pulled his long navy jacket around his body, covering his tights and fitted shear sweater, if it could even be called a sweater. Sweaters were meant to keep the wearer warm. This was clearly meant to attract attention.

But that was the point. It was always the point.

Two years ago, attention had been all he wanted. He loved being in the spotlight, all eyes on him. Now it made him cringe and force himself to flex his abdomen in attempt to keep the bile from rising. He’d gotten good at it.

He glanced down at his phone.

23:02. Perfect.

He unlocked the door and found himself face to face with the restaurant employee.

“What the fuck did I tell you last weekend?”

He looked around the restaurant. There wasn’t a single customer in sight. Was it _really_ that big of a deal? Oh well, he’d find a new spot tomorrow night.

“I told you, give me your number and _I’ll_ call _you_. I don’t just give my number out to anyone.”

“Sure you might not give your number out, but I bet you give something else out.” He looked Toru up and down with a disgusted expression.

“Sorry, also out of your price range.”

“You fucking fairy, look at you in your fucking faggot make up. Don’t even talk to me like you’re smarter than me. I will beat the shit out of you!”

Toru rolled his eyes. He’d heard that line too many times to count. He knew when to be afraid and when to laugh. “We aren’t all blessed with the skills of a sandwich artist. Have a wonderful evening, sandwich-chan!”

“I hope you get herpes and die tonight, faggot!” The boy called after him.

He snickered to himself and kept walking.

He approached his destination, and despite the cold, he folded up his jacket and pulled the plastic bag from the front pocket of his satchel. There was a club on the side of the block that stayed open until dawn, and as long as it was open, people generally stayed away from dumpster behind it. It was the perfect place to stash his stuff. He gently placed the jacket in his bag, then wrapped the entire thing in the plastic before hiding it behind the bin.

He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, and proceeded out into the street.

The place was alive. People littered the streets, drunk out of their minds stumbling around and shouting about. There were a few cars, but not many. The music coming from the club was loud and a line poured out the front door. It was a brisk night, but he seemed to be the only one who took notice.

He kept walking. This was not the place.

As he walked, the people became less dense and more intoxicated, though people now appeared more often high than drunk.

“Jade, hey!” His street name.

He glanced over his shoulder, spotting a friend of his.

Yamaguchi looked adorable in his pink miniskirt and red-framed glasses with his hair pulled back by pins. His make up was on point, as always. He was tiny and cute and freckled and catered to a very specific audience. Toru wished he could pull off that look, but he didn’t have the body for it like Yamaguchi did. It worked out though, because they would never have to worry about interfering with each other’s clients.

“Hey! How’s the night?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Still a bit loud.”

“Damn. Don’t people know when to quit?”

“Apparently not. Full moon. You can decide whether that’s good or bad,” Yamaguchi said with a smile.

“Fair point. Hit me later eh?”

“Sure will! Have a good night!”

They went their separate ways, Toru heading farther into the darkness.

“Heyy sweetheart,” the voice came from his left. The road.

“Looking for a date?” Toru asked, flashing his radiant smile before he even made eye contact.

“Ew fuck no! Not with some gender-confused fuck boy! I thought you were a woman!”

“Wrong side of town, hun. You want Main and 14th. That way,” Toru said, not missing a beat and pointing down the road in the opposite direction the car was pointed.

“Go to hell!” The man said, pulling an aggressive 180-degree turn.

“See you there,” he whispered quietly.

He took a deep breath. He had a thick skin, but tonight was wearing on him already. He steeled himself and kept on walking, gently massaging his temples.

He paced the streets. The crowds were thinning, but so were the cars. It was always the worst when partiers stayed out too late and the tricks felt embarrassed picking up prostitutes because there were too many people around. Often they’d give up and while it saved Toru his dignity, it did nothing for his wallet which was really what was important. After all, he’d sacrificed that self-respect long ago.

“Hey darling.”

Toru nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d been watching the road, but this one came from the alley behind him.

“Wh-what can I do you for?” He asked, trying to hide the fact that adrenaline was surging through him. He hated sounding intimidated; it made the tricks feel more in control than they needed to.

“You look young.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Toru said, attempting to regain his confidence. “So can I help you?”

“Limits?” The man asked, leaning casually against the wall.

Toru looked him up and down out of his peripherals. He wasn’t well dressed, but he wasn’t scummy either. His clothes were casual, his jeans had a hole in the knee and the top two buttons of his flannel were undone revealing a white wife beater, but his clothing was clean and his face was shaved. He decided he looked safe enough.

“No barebacking.”

“Anything else?”

“Well I’m not doing it in the alley…”

The man chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes revealing that he was probably older than Toru had originally suspected. Not that it mattered.

“This isn’t your first time, is it boy?”

He contemplated lying. He’d done it before when he thought it was to his benefit. The guy had tried to rip him off in the end.

He shrugged. “You said it yourself. I look young. Take it or leave it.”

He didn’t want to sound as desperate as he was. Desperation usually resulted in a smaller pay out, so he remained standoffish.

“Alright, meet me at the hotel at the end of the block. Room 204. Give me twenty.”

The man handed him a hotel room key, completely catching him off guard. He took it, looking up into the man’s face and immediately regretting how vulnerable he must look.

“I’ve been watching you pace around,” he said with a horrible grin on his face. “Knew I had to have you. Name’s Johnny, by the way.”

Toru was at a loss for words. He grinned and batted his eyes, his perfected protection.

“See you soon,” the man said.

He nodded, then turned away.

 

Twenty minutes later found him uncharacteristically nervous riding the elevator up to the second floor. He could have taken the stairs, but somehow he felt this would take longer, delaying the inevitable.

 _Just a couple of hours, maybe less,_ he told himself. He could do this. He’d done it so many times. This was what he was good at. He’d never been a natural, but he’d perfected the skill.

He took a deep breath, raising his hand to knock at the door when it opened. The man from earlier was standing there in a pair of track pants and nothing else. He was already clearly ready, making Toru wonder if he’d taken some kind of pill. That was typically the reason men asked for extra time.

He wasn’t there to judge. And generally he would help his tricks through it. After all, the better time the man had, the better he typically paid.

“Come on in,” he said, his voice much softer than before.

“Alright, on the bed, boy. And just to confirm, your only limit was bare backing, correct?”

“Uh, yeah,” Toru said, immediately wondering if he should have added something to that. “I’d also prefer if you didn’t leave marks where I can’t hide them.”

“Of course,” he replied, sounding surprisingly professional. “Clothes off. All of them.” Professionalism gone.

Toru did as he was told. He began with his shirt, performing a perfectly staged routine, elongating his torso, stretching each arm elegantly over his head.

“Pick up the pace, I don’t have all day.” His tone was growing aggressive. It only added to Toru’s gut feeling. He quickly removed the rest of his clothes and returned to the bed.

“I said all of them, the fuck is that?” He asked, pointing to Toru’s knee brace.

_That is the reason I’m here fucking you._

He slid the brace off and tossed it onto his pile of clothing. He felt heat return to the aggravated joint and knew he’d regret it later, especially if he was expected to perform any kind of acrobatics.

“On your back, hands over your head,” the man said, now pulling a duffel bag out from under the bed. Toru forced his eyes to remain neutral as he retrieved a length of rope, climbed on top of him and began tying each of his wrists to the frame of the bed.

“Too tight,” he whined and the sinewy cords constricted the blood flow to his hands. He wondered if he’d intentionally chosen a material that would cut worst into his skin.

“Stop whining, whore,” he said forcefully, slapping Toru across the face.

Toru bit his tongue as his left wrist was tied in the same manner as his right, but couldn’t stop a small cry from escaping his lips.

Once his arms were tied far too tightly to the bed, the man pulled out a thick blindfold and covered his eyes.

Toru had to take subtly deep breath in attempt to recompose himself. He _hated_ being tied up. He’d been here before, a handful of times when tricks that got off on power and roped him into a similar situation, but it never got anymore comfortable. He tried to tell himself it was easy, because he didn’t have to _do_ anything, but at the same time it was terrifying. He was a naturally anxious person, and not only had he lost his ability to move and defend himself, he’d now lost his vision as well.

He needed to get his head in the game. He did _not_ get off on this, and he knew too well that with these types of tricks, if you didn’t get off, it wasn’t going to end well. They wanted to feel like they had power over you, and if you couldn’t even get hard, you weren’t doing your job.

Despite the fact that his job was just to lie there and take whatever the offending man had to throw at him, he found these to be the hardest jobs of all.

“Open up, slut,” he said, and before Toru could even register what he’d said, the man’s dick was rammed down his throat.

He nearly choked, but he quickly got himself under control. This was his element. He could do this.

“No teeth! Bitch! Don’t make me gag you,” he said. His voice was calm but very assertive. It sent shivers down his spine, and not in a good way.

He worked his mouth into a better position, forcing himself into a different headspace. He imagined it was someone he actually loved, not that he knew that feeling. He wanted to make them feel good. He regretted the loss of his hands, feeling like he could do a much better job with them. Not to mention the fact that he had no control over this guy’s damn rhythm, but he could make it work. He worked his tongue expertly, deep throating as he went and eliciting a moan from the man above him.

 _There we go,_ he thought to himself.

He continued, attempting to match the man’s pace, despite how erratic and unorganized it was. He wished he could tell him to slow down and let him carry the deed, but he was effectively deprived of his voice right now.

The man wasn’t large, which helped Toru work his tongue around the offending object in his mouth, and it wasn’t long before the man’s mask of dominance was falling away and he was crying out, the awful tasting seed hitting the back of Toru’s throat. That was the other problem about them being small; he couldn’t just swallow, he had to taste it first. What the fuck was this guy eating?

“Ahh! Much better, slut!” The man said, removing himself from Toru’s mouth. “What the fuck! Why are you not hard?” He then demanded.

 _Because I take no pleasure in being tied up and mouth raped._ There was no way he could say that out loud. But he knew what the guy wanted.

“Touch me,” he said softly. “Please.”

**Slap**

“Why should I? You fucking slut?”

 _Come on come on come on, get hard,_ He thought to himself. He forced himself to imagine a faceless lover, passionately caressing his body, hands running through his hairline and down the back of his neck.

This was his routine. It always worked, and yet he was kicking himself for waiting too long.

“Ahh, there you go. So you get off on being slapped!”

Another forceful blow to his face.

_Shit_

He felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. That one hurt.

“Please touch me,” he said again, the tears threatening his eyes adding the perfect whine to his voice. He forced his lips into a needy pout. He could at least play it to his advantage, and he suddenly felt a little grateful for the blindfold covering his eyes. He mentally kicked himself. He never got this caught up. He could handle the pain. What the hell was wrong with him tonight?

Suddenly something hard, probably a knee, found its way into his gut and he cried out loudly, clenching his fists and tugging at his bonds.

“You like that? Fucker?”

He attempted to curl in on himself, but the man grabbed his legs.

“Don’t make me tie your legs down too,” he growled as a beefy hand roughly began to fondle Toru’s manhood.

 _Inside your head, turn it all off. Feel nothing but the physical_ , he demanded of himself. He forced himself to feel the pain in his abdomen, locking out further feelings. There was no emotional attachment here. There never was, and there never would be.

He forced himself to moan in response to the touch.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, you pretty little slut!”

The hand was withdrawn, and he his heightened sense could hear the man pleasuring himself, grunting in response.

“Aw yeah! Open up, bitch!” And his mouth was assaulted once more. Oddly enough, it took even less time, and he pulled out just in time to squirt all over Toru’s face and chest.

It was a familiar feeling, and tricks usually got off on dirtying him. This he could handle. It was just water coming down from a showerhead. He swallowed what he could quickly, getting it out of his mouth and making himself appear desperate. Again, this was something they liked.

He moaned again, forcing his back to arch up off the bed.

“Look at you, desperate for my cock,” he said, his breathing ragged from his last orgasm.

“Please,” he begged, making his voice tremble.

“Say my name, slut.”

He blanked for a second, covering it up with a moan. “Johnny,” he finally said, breathlessly.

“What? What do you want?” He growled.

“Fuck me,” he said quietly, sounding as needy as possible.

“Beg for it!” The man punched him in the abdomen again.

“Please!” He could feel the bile rising in his bruised stomach.

“Please what?!” He boomed, slapping him hard across the face.

“PLEASE FUCK ME,” Tour cried, again arching his back off the bed.

“Aw yeah!” The man wailed, roughly flipping Toru over so his arms pulled against the rope, making him feel like his hands would either be ripped off or his arms ripped from their sockets. His wrists burned against the rope and his fists tingled. He could no longer tighten them due to lack of bloodflow.

Thankfully, he heard the sound of a condom wrapper ripping. That was the other awful thing about being tied up. If the trick didn’t put a condom on, he couldn’t stop them. It had happened once before, and he couldn’t bring himself to work for a week after that. When he’d gone back, he’d set bondage as a limit, but he’d been rejected by several jobs after that. As soon as you put limits on them, they figured you would have other boundaries and they tended not to like that.

The man didn’t prep him at all, forcefully ramming himself into Toru from behind. He cried out against the pain, but forced himself to turn his mind off. Johnny’s hands dug into his hips, ramming him hard, headfirst into his crossed arms, Toru having no way to steady himself against the assault. He turned his head so his nose wouldn’t slam against his arms, shocked that the activity hadn’t jarred his blindfold in the slightest.

“Don’t you dare finish before me!” He demanded, his breathing ragged.

He grasped Toru’s cock, jerking him almost painfully hard as he continued slamming into his body from behind. He cried out in pain, hoping it would come across as pleasure as it so often did, and the man’s shouts escalated, Toru knowing he was close.

“Yeah slut! Cum!” And Toru did, forcing the pleasureless orgasm from his body, his newly perfected, prized skill.

“Ah,” Johnny panted behind him, catching his breath.

He felt the man climb off the bed wordlessly, then heard the bathroom door close. Of course he’d leave him there, soiled, likely bleeding, filthy. They always cleaned themselves up before tending to him. It was like a law among them, he was sure of it. He curled his legs up beside him, feeling the ache in his stomach as well as his behind. Fuck it hurt. Everything hurt. It always hit him so fast once he was finished. He felt the lump in his throat again, the tears threatening, but he swallowed back down against it. He refused to have tears in his eyes when the man removed his blindfold.

Several minutes later, he heard the bathroom door open once more. He quickly straightened his legs, waiting for the man to untie him.

“Well, you weren’t very much fun,” the man said, as Toru felt something light hit his body.

Money.

“Think I’ll go see what your little friend in the pink skirt is up to. Find out if he enjoys getting the shit beaten out of him as much as you do.” The man laughed, and Toru felt his entire body tense.

Before he could say a word, the door slammed shut.

_Shit!_

 

He would never know exactly how he’d managed to get his hands untied, but he would be reminded for several days that it had happened by the bloody wounds. His right hand was far worse, his wrist rubbed completely raw, as well as the back of his hands and his entire thumb, the tendon on the outside barely functional.

What mattered was that he’d managed to get to his phone, and that Yamaguchi was safe.

“Hey Toru, what’s up?”

That was his first indication. They never used their real names on the streets.

“Where are you?”

“I’m almost home. I just stopped to grab something to eat.”

“Thank fucking god,” Toru mumbled through a huge sigh of relief. Yamaguchi was younger, less experienced, and if at all possible, more pure. He set limits and he hated when tricks hurt him. He knew that this guy would have ruined him.

“What happened? Are you ok?”

“I just had a rough job. He saw me talking to you earlier and wasn’t happy with me so he said he was going after you next. If a man in a flannel shirt approaches you, run.”

“What the hell happened? Seriously are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said, feeling exhausted now that the adrenaline was draining from his system. His stomach ached, and his wrists burned. Badly. “Um, can I come over?”

“Yeah of course. Where are you? Do you want me to come meet you?”

“No! Please stay away from this area. I’ll be there soon.”

“Toru, seriously! You sound awful.”

“I’m fine. Just get inside please.”

“Ok…” Yamaguchi said, sounding uncertain.

“See you soon. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

Toru hung up the phone, taking a deep breath and fighting the urge to collapse back against the bed.

Body protesting and aching, he dragged himself to the bathroom, feeling unsteady and nauseous. He really didn’t want to look himself in the face right now. He just wanted to take a long bath and fall asleep.

But Johnny still had the key to this place, and he wondered if he’d return after finding that Yamaguchi had disappeared from the streets. His heart ached for whomever the man picked up next.

He avoided the mirror. He didn’t want to see his face, see how badly his make up was ruined from the blindfold. He’d managed not to cry, but he could feel it building now. It had been such an emotional night.

He focused on his perfectly painted fingernails, the only part of him that still felt put together and therefore whole. He watched them tremble as he soaked a towel with hot water and soap, the water burning the cuts on his hands and wrists as he went. He could hardly use his right hand because it was so torn up and painful, but he managed to wipe his chest and face clean, removing his ruined make up that he’d worked so hard to perfect. He wished he had something with him, even foundation to hide behind. A naked face made him feel so vulnerable, not to mention ugly. As long as he could cover himself and hide behind the beauty that was make up, he felt like he could hide what he was.

But not right now. Right now he was ugly and disgusting and he didn’t even have time to properly clean up.

The bile rose again, and this time he couldn’t stop it.

He had nothing in his stomach, having not eaten at all that day. Somehow, the pink acid still managed to sacrifice itself and expel itself from his body. He coughed, doubling over in pain and spitting out what he could into the toilet. Once his body had ejected all it could, he dry heaved, crying out against the pain. Now he had tears in his eyes. The taste was awful, and he could see white chunks of cum in the contents as he quickly flushed the toilet and shut his eyes tight against the pain, the sight, the disgust.

He was disgusting.

Repulsive

Revolting

Worthless.

The tears came.

 

It took longer than he would have liked, but he got himself off the bathroom floor. He tossed his used towels into the bathtub, wrapping another one around his right hand. It was still bleeding, and he couldn’t sacrifice the sweater he’d worn.

Back in the room, he pulled his knee brace back on, trying to ignore the ache in his heart as it reminded him each time _why_ he was in this position.

He’d been a star. He’d played for the Japanese National team. He’d been on the Olympic roster. Then everything had come crashing down. One bad fall had ruined his life. Or so he told himself. He knew that in reality it had been years of overuse leading up to it, but regardless, it was all over.

It wasn’t repairable. There was nothing they could do to fix him. Even a 5% chance of success and he would have had the surgeries. As many as it took. But there was no chance. It was over. Done. A distant dream.

The tears remained in his eyes as he pulled his pants on, then carefully pulled his shirt over his body, the compression of the sleeve holding the towel against his bloody wrist. Black socks and brown loafers followed.

A deep breath, and he stood up and collected the cash. $100. Less than he’d expected, especially after that kind of treatment.

What could he do? Even if they had worked out a price there was nothing holding the man to it. The asshole had left him tied to the bed, after all.

He folded the bills up and shoved them into his sock. He then stripped the linens and tossed them in the bathtub as well. He was certain the hotel staff had to put up with enough in this area of town.

He glanced around the room purely on instinct, since he had nothing to forget. Finally he turned the light off and let himself out.

 

The walk back to the dumpster was cold. He’d kept the towel he’d used to wrap around his hand, hoping the asshole’s credit card would be charged for it. The left side had mostly stopped bleeding, so he’d simply pulled his sleeve down. Nonetheless, it was still freezing. By the time he’d made it back to his things, he was shivering, teeth chattering and all. He threw on his jacket and headed straight for Yamaguchi’s, not stopping to make eye contact with anyone.

“TORU!”

“Shhhh!” Toru hushed him, cringing in pain as Yamaguchi threw himself at him, throwing them both at the wall across from Yamaguchi’s doorway.

“I’m sorry, come in,” he said, moving aside to let Toru in.

He was dressed in black leggings that hugged his slender thighs and calves perfectly, ending neatly around his ankles with purple no show socks and a pink crew neck sweatshirt to match. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he wore simple make up that made him look very put together, likely more so than he felt. He must have had a good night. Yamaguchi was so precious, and it broke Toru’s heart that he was in this line of work.

“What happened to you?” He asked, tilting Toru’s chin up, letting the dim light from the ceiling lamp shine and highlight the bruises on his cheekbones. “Your lip is bleeding!”

“That’s not all,” Toru said, rolling his sleeves up to reveal the mess of wounds on his wrists.

Yamaguchi squealed, his hands jumping to his mouth as if he might scream. “What the heck happened?”

“He got rough.”

“Come on,” Yamaguchi said, gently taking his left hand and leading him to the small bathroom that Toru had been patched up in so many times.

Toru sat on the counter in only his tights as Yamaguchi ran a bath for him. When he climbed in, Yamaguchi washed his hair for him and gently cleaned the wounds on his arms. He’d dimmed the lights and brought a small bottle of whiskey that he’d been saving for months. They were silent, passing the bottle back and forth until Toru felt his head grow fuzzy.

“How was your night?” He finally asked.

“It was good, actually,” Yamaguchi said. That was obviously code for as good as it could be in this line of work. No one did this because they enjoyed it. “Easy client, it was his first time with a man. He just wanted me to walk him through it and show him how it was done. He was pretty quick and he paid really well.”

“He’s lucky he found you. Some of the other guys would probably have taken advantage of him.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. He was a good guy.”

“Think he’ll be a return customer?”

“Maybe. I’d be ok with that. Made for a short night.”

“Yeah, same with mine,” Toru said sarcastically. For other reasons though, his night was cut short. He couldn’t go back out after he’d been bloodied up so badly.

“Mm, want to tell me what happened?” Yamaguchi asked.

Normally he’d say no, but the way his friend asked was so genuinely sincere, that it made him want to share. It was strange, and only Yamaguchi could do this to him. It always helped too, getting it out like that.

“He tied me down and blindfolded me, then roughed me up during. He left me tied to the bed after, saying he was coming after you. That’s how this happened,” Toru said, holding up his swollen right hand.

“That looks really bad, Toru,” Yamaguchi said, taking the limb in his hands. I think I can see your tendon!”

“Yeah, it doesn’t feel good. It wasn’t one of those situations where I could just stay there and wait for the hotel staff to find me though. Also who knew if he’d come back?”

“Have you done that before? Waited for hotel staff to find you?”

“No,” Toru said. “They’ve always cut me loose after.”

“You need to start setting limits.”

“We aren’t all as pretty as you, Yama,” Toru said, feeling his face form a smile he didn’t think would be possible at this point.

“Be quiet, you’re gorgeous,” Yamaguchi said. “Ready to get out?”

“Yeah,” he said, wincing as he flexed his abdomen to sit up.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just sore.”

“Hang on, let me get you a towel.”

Toru pulled the plug from the tub and stood, waiting for Yamaguchi to return. When he did, the smaller boy held the towel out and Toru found it was warm when he stepped into it.

He smiled at his friend, “thanks.”

“My mom used to leave the towel on the heater for me when I was little,” Yamaguchi smiled.

The smile on Yamaguchi’s face was so innocent and pure that Toru almost began to cry again. This boy deserved to be protected. He wished he could do something for him.

“Do you want pjs or tights?”

“Pajamas, please,” Toru said, carefully bending over to dry himself.

Once he was dry and dressed, Yamaguchi bandaged his wrists and lead him to his bedroom where he had a pot of tea, two cups and a package of milk bread on his night table. His makeup bag was there as well.

“You’re wonderful,” Toru said.

“I want you to be ok,” Yamaguchi said. “And you’ve taken care of me too many times to count. I would never have been successful in this business without you.”

“I will be. Thank to you,” he said, wrapping his arms around Yamaguchi. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not.

“Can I braid your hair?”

“Yes please,” Toru said. He loved when Yamaguchi did his hair. He always felt so much prettier afterwards. “And maybe my make up, too?”

“Really? But you’re so much better at that than me!”

“Am not!” Toru protested.

“I think you are. But if that’s what you want, then of course.”

They spent the better part of an hour making Toru feel pretty again while drinking green tea. When they finally grew tired, they curled up in Yamaguchi’s bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Perhaps he would be ok after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yah... I kept going with this. I couldn't help myself. I need the angst in my life.  
> This is a Happy belated Birthday post for ShatteredEpiphany who inspires me daily. ily<3

Toru awoke the next morning alone in the bed. This was not abnormal. Whether it was a trick that paid extra for him to stay the night or if it was Yamaguchi. He was used to it. Yama had class, and he couldn’t be blamed for that. He was so far ahead of Toru. With any luck, he’d be graduating soon and moving onto a proper job. As for the tricks, well it wasn’t like he wanted them there in the morning. Yet somehow there was still a sting associated with waking up alone.

He didn’t linger on it.

Instead he pulled himself out of bed and glanced around for his phone. He found it plugged into the wall next to the bed, obviously Yama’s doing. He liked to think he took care of his friend, but really he was the one being taken care of more often than not.

He climbed into the shower and stood under the hot water until he felt at least mildly clean. He blow-dried his hair and used Yama’s flat iron to bring his hair to state that he was happy with. He found his make up bag on the night table and applied foundation to cover up the bruising on his face along with a soft peach eye shadow and a gold lid. It was subtle but pretty, exactly how he wanted to feel. He finished it off with mascara and a gentle brown liner below his eye. Next he moved into Yama’s closet where he often kept some of his own clothes, but he knew he had free reign of the place. It was nice, Yama always managed to find the best thrift store buys, and he himself didn’t own much that he really liked.

He settled on a pair of his own light blue jeans and one of Yama’s soft, giant sweaters with a high collar. This one was a very light pink, and sat about the same length as his own jacket. He slid his feet into his white converse, slipped his brown glasses up his nose and headed out, quickly jotting a note of thanks complete with a heart on the stand next to the door. One last glance back at the place that Yama had really managed to make his own, then he locked the door from behind an stepped out.

As much as he loved his friend, one thing he would never understand about him was the fact that he didn’t drink coffee, especially given that he was a student.

Toru decided that today he could treat himself. He deserved it after last night.

He wandered a few blocks down in the direction of his own place, stopping at a small but elegant coffee shop a couple of blocks down from the city’s hospital. The setting was adorable; lace and doilies, soft accents of pink and gently woven branches covering the walls. But what Toru loved most about this place were the dishes. The coffee was delicious, but that wasn’t too hard to find in the business district. But here the cups were elegant China accentuated with gold and floral designs. He didn’t know why, but the glassware warmed his heart somehow. Maybe it was simply because it was pretty. He loved to sit in his corner in the back of the shop and watch the other customers using them like it was nothing. Everyone had a right to be pretty, right?

He ordered a coffee, which the barista dressed up with whipping cream, chocolate sauce and flakes of chocolate in caramel, like she always did for him, and took it to his favourite table. He sipped it slowly, waiting for it to reach the perfect temperature despite the fact that he could drink it seethingly hot with ease.

He leaned forward, setting his mug down and pulling his sleeves over his hands before tucking them beneath his armpits. His body was still sore. He could cover up the bruises with make up, but he couldn’t make the pain go away so easily. His stomach hurt and his right hand was still barely functional. He knew he should probably get it checked out, but he really wasn’t in the mood to make up a story, nor was he up for a full head to toe assessment. He mentally decided that if the pain wasn’t gone by the time the rest of his bruises were, he’d go get it looked at. Until then, he wasn’t going to worry about it. He could function just fine with his left hand.

On that note, he scooped up his coffee once more and sipped it. He stared out the window, watching the sun try to overcome the clouds, but it was so far unsuccessful. The dark clouds hung over the city threatening rain. It was getting colder and colder, and Toru wondered when it might snow. But despite the darkness, there was a patch of cloud that was brightened by the overwhelmed sun, reminding him that no matter how dark it got, it was always there.

In the daytime, anyway.

“Can I get a large black coffee with five sugars?”

Someone chuckled, and Toru nearly dropped his mug.

It wasn’t the sight in front of him; all he saw was a leisurely couple dressed far too causally for this place. On second thought, one was wearing scrubs and the other was in a lab coat. Not abnormal; the hospital was right next-door.

It was the voice either. Though it was a voice he should have known better than his own.

It was the order.

And the laugh of disbelief that followed.

There was only on person that ordered black coffee with five sugars.

“Iwa-chan?”

The words were out of his mouth before he even realized it. A double take revealed to him that the patron was indeed tall, muscular with tan skin and dark, spikey hair. It was if no time had passed at all.

But it was ok. He’d said it so quietly; there was no chance he would turn around, right?

“Oikawa?”

It was definitely, absolutely 100% Iwa-chan. It had been four years since Toru had seen him, and he’d grown everywhere but in height. He was more filled out, more buff, his chin was larger, but still managed to be unbelievably sexy in the way that it angled down into his strong neck. His arms, which Toru could see through his light blue dress shirt and lab coat, were more muscular than before, which was amazing because as far as Oikawa knew, he wasn’t playing volleyball anymore. His abdomen was strong and narrowed with his dress shirt, tucked into light khaki pants that framed his perfect ass and narrow hips. Despite the fact that he was still shorter than Toru, his legs looked long and slender and his dark brown leather shoes, along with his perfectly pressed shirt, screamed success. His dark eyes stood out immensely, and he looked almost paler than Toru remembered him, like he hadn’t seen the sun in months.

“What are you doing here?” Were the first words out of Toru’s mouth as he stood up.

“Large coffee, five sugar,” the barista said, handing the cup to him.

But Iwaizumi left it completely forgotten, making his way to Toru’s table. They met in the middle and embraced, Toru feeling that he was indeed far more muscular than the last time he’d seen, or felt rather, his old friend.

“I’m working…” Iwaizumi trailed off, his eyes completely lost in Toru’s. “I mean, I’m doing my first practicum at the hospital up the road.”

“Hospital?”

“I’m in medical school, remember?”

“Oh right,” Toru said, the wave of realization crashing over him, reminding him of how completely different their worlds had become.

“Ma’am, that will be $12.95,” the cashier said to Iwaizumi’s companion.

“Iwaizumi-san?” The girl said to him hopefully, but it was if she didn’t exist.

“How long have you been here?” Toru asked.

“Only a month. What about you? Have you been living here all this time?”

“Iwaizumi san!” The girl demanded. She’d paid for the coffee, having tucked her wallet under her arm and was now holding both coffees impatiently.

“Oh, thanks,” he said, taking his, then turning back to Toru.

“Yeah, I moved here – ”

But he was cut off. “IWAIZUMI SAN!”

“What?” He asked, raising his own voice.

“Our breaks are almost over. We need to get back,” she insisted.

“Uhh, I have to go. Can we get together later?” Iwaizumi asked. If looks could kill, both he and Iwaizumi would have been mercilessly murdered by Iwaizmi’s companion.

Toru knew she was staring right at him, judging him for what he was and for how he looked. He typically kept his style toned down during the day, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention, but he still got these kinds of looks almost daily. He wondered if she would have even noticed him had Iwaizumi not stopped to talk to him. Clearly she was into Iwaizumi and was not impressed that their coffee date had been interrupted. Toru wondered if Iwaizumi knew it was supposed to be a date. He could tell by the way that despite the girl’s scrubs, she had her make up and hair done perfectly. Having spent a fair amount of time in the hospital himself, Toru knew this wasn’t standard. She was dressed up for Iwaizumi. Given the fact that Iwaizumi had just made her pay for their coffee, he doubted he realized this. Iwaizumi was brilliant, but he often missed the obvious.

Toru grinned. “Of course. Leave me you number?”

“Ye-yeah, hang on,” Iwaizumi said, his face now flushing red. He glanced around for a pen, but Toru beat him to it.

“Here,” he said, pulling the light pink pen off of his satchel and offering the clean napkin beside him.

He caught another glimpse of the girl out of the corner of his eye. There was something satisfying about the way she was squirming, her face flushing angrily.

“There,” Iwaizumi said, pushing the napkin back to him.

“You think I’d forgotten your name, Iwa-chan?” Toru chuckled. “And your writing is as awful as ever.

“Whatever,” he grunted in response. “It was uh – good to see you.”

“I’ll text you later. Good to see you too.”

“Uh, have a good day,” he said awkwardly.

Toru sipped his coffee, making himself appear far more collected than he felt as he watched the two of them leave, following them with his eyes as they walked down the street, not quite side by side. It appeared that she was trying to run ahead of him, and he was forcing himself to keep up.

He kind of loved the effect he appeared to have on his old best friend. They had been together all through school, then started at the same university together. Toward the end of high school was when Toru had really started to realize his feelings for him. He’d dropped hints, but he was in no way prepared to destroy their friendship by letting his feelings be known. Iwaizumi had never shown any signs of being gay, but then he’d never had girlfriends either. Clearly, he still wasn’t great with women.

But after second year of university everything changed. Iwaizumi got deeper into his field of study and decided that he was not only no longer going to play volleyball, but that he was transferring schools. It had broken Toru’s heart in more ways than one, and the two eventually lost contact. Toru had always wondered what hurt worse, the fact that he was giving up on volleyball or the fact that he’d chosen school over their friendship. Toru still loved him at the time, but it had all just hurt so badly that he pushed him away completely.

A year later, Oikawa had faced a devastating injury and his world had completely fallen apart. He’d lost his scholarship, was forced to drop out of school and refused to return home to his parents. He hadn’t gotten along with his father since he’d come out, and the time he’d lived there during high school had been painful. It wasn’t worth going back.

He’d worked the odd normal job since then, retail, serving, but none of it got him ahead. It wasn’t until he’d turned to prostitution that he felt like he was really getting anywhere. Now he had a place to live, money saved, and he was taking online classes and about to enter his final year of his degree. It had been slow, but he felt like he was finally moving forward. As for volleyball, that was over. He’d come to terms with that. He’d also come to terms with the fact that he’d lost Iwaizumi. He’d managed to face life head on, and he was surviving day by day.

It scared him. Why did Iwaizumi have to walk back into his life now? When he was such a disaster? What would Iwa-chan say when he found out what Toru was doing with his life? Toru had managed to cut out everyone from his life that judged him. He had a few friends now, but he loved them dearly.

Iwaizumi had shattered him before. The power the other had over him scared the crap out of him. He stared down at the phone number written in pink ink, that horrible hand writing he knew better than his own.

There was a reason he’d asked for Iwa-chan to give him _his_ number.

*~*~*~*~

He had one customer that night. It was a good thing too, because his wrist was really starting to hurt. He’d told himself he wasn’t able to work, but when push came to shove and the text message came through, he couldn’t say no. That was how you lost clients. He was not in a position to lose clients, especially the ones that treated him well. At least tonight he wouldn’t be wandering the streets looking for work.

So at 10:00PM, Toru did his make up as he did most nights. He had some regular tricks that disliked it so he didn’t, but generally it made him feel better about himself. It was one part of his daily routine he actually enjoyed. Sure there was the fact that he felt like if he wore make up, he could hide behind it, but at the same time, it made him feel pretty. He knew the last thing he was was beautiful or pretty; he was filthy, after all, but this gave him the right illusion and he clung to it with every fiber of his being.

Navy and pastel blue was his colour palate of choice tonight. Perfectly rosy cheeks and soft pink lipstick followed. It was his favourite lip colour, and it made him feel a bit happier overall. He pulled a small amount of wax into his hand and ran it through his hair, brushing it up at all the right angles. Digging in his oversized make up drawer, he picked up a light blue hair clip and pulled a section of his bangs up, pinning it in place. He pursed his lips at the mirror and smiled. Very rarely did he smile at that mirror. It made him giddy.

He pulled on a pair of dark nylons, short black shorts and flats. He followed with a turquoise blue dress shirt and a pair of suspenders. Maybe part of the reason he didn’t mind this particular client was because he liked his feminine side, and it gave Toru an excuse to dress the way he really wanted to. Pretty sweaters and tights flew with most tricks, but if he took it too far it often ended in ridicule and sometimes violence.

George, his client tonight, was a 54 year old gay man who was widowed and lonely. His younger husband had died a few years back of cancer and he’d given up on finding love. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have needs or desires. Toru had been meeting with him almost weekly for over a year. He lived in his husband’s house, but he owned an apartment uptown that he deactivated the security system to whenever they’d arranged to meet up. Toru had a key, and he typically met him around 11pm. Toru was always welcome to stay the night, but George never did. And so he never did either. Part of him wished George would just stay a single night with him. But it was like a law among men who bought prostitutes; they _never_ stayed.

Toru pulled his jacket tightly around him, and for some reason he thought of Iwa-chan. About how he was supposed to text him tonight.

He’d gone home after he’d finished his coffee, though by the time it was gone, it had long grown cold. It was dark outside when he’d walked home, contemplating his choice.

He’d thrown the napkin away. He knew it was the right decision. He was not in a place where he could fully be himself around his old friend. He wanted to get to know him again; he wanted it so badly. But Iwa-chan could never understand. He’d never hold it against him of course, but he knew he wouldn’t understand.

Everything happens for a reason, that’s what he’d been telling himself for a long time. Yes, Iwa-chan had walked back into his life now, but he was convinced it was to test him. Now was so not the time. If it was meant to happen, he would appear again.

When the time was right.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Why did it feel so much harder tonight?

He arrived at George’s penthouse apartment at 10:45pm. He settled in, pouring both himself and George a glass of expensive red wine before dimming the lights and seating himself in the lounge area, waiting for his client to arrive. In terms of jobs, this one was almost enjoyable compared to others. He wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but George was, and he liked for them to be able to enjoy a glass before they moved onto other things. Toru suspected it was likely something he and his husband once enjoyed. It was also why he knew as much as he did about him. It wasn’t standard to get to know your client like he’d gotten to know George, and he worried for the man’s safety had he given this kind of personal information to other prostitutes. Most people in Toru’s line of work were at it for the same reason; they were desperate. It wasn’t something you did because you enjoyed it. Given that they were desperate, it would be easy to take advantage of a man like George for his wealth as well as his hospitality. But Toru didn’t have that in him, and he was glad he didn’t. The man was always so kind, Toru often considered his situation to be more unfortunate than his own. The poor guy was lonely and had been absolutely broken when his husband had died. He’d closed himself off and wasn’t willing to make himself vulnerable again.

“Jade, good evening, it’s good to see you,” George said as he entered the apartment, kicking off his brown loafers and hanging his jacket over the hand rail.

“You as well,” Toru said, standing to approach the man.

“You look a bit rough, are you alright?”

He had a genuine look of concern as he took in Toru’s appearance. Toru knew his eye was slightly blackened, despite his best effort to cover it up with make up, and the bandages were still very visible on his wrists. He’d considered cancelling tonight, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. George would understand.

“Yeah. Last night was a bit rough, but I’m fine. Please don’t burden yourself with worry on my behalf,” Toru said, rubbing his bad wrist in attempt to show that it was ok. It really wasn’t, but George was in no way a rough client. He wasn’t concerned for his well being anymore than he would be had he stayed home.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But please, let me know if there’s anything you need.”

 _About six more of you for the rest of the nights of the week,_ Toru thought to himself, wishing all of his clients were as gentle as George. “Thank you,” Toru said, handing him the beautiful crystal glass filled part way with red wine.

“Thank you, what have you chosen tonight?” He asked. Toru was given the liberty to choose the wine each night. They always opened a new bottle, drinking a single glass before they got going. Sometimes they would drink a second glass after, but usually Toru would simply discard of the rest of the bottle before he left. It seemed a waste, but it wasn’t like he was going to sit there by himself afterwards and drink it.

“It’s a Merlot,” Toru said, holding up the dark bottle wrapped with a soft cream label emblazed with gold script. He’d honestly just chosen it for it’s fancy label. He didn’t pretend to know anything about wine. He felt like he should learn, if only to appreciate George’s wines a little more.

“Ah, nice choice. This was a great vintage. We picked up a case in Italy in ’99,” George said. He looked like he was planning to say more, but he stopped himself.

Toru didn’t mind when George talked of his late husband, but he found it often put the man in a lower mood. He was here to bring a bit of joy to the old man’s life. He didn’t want him feeling down.

They made small talk for a bit longer, Toru matching his sips to George’s as he always did so they finished their glasses at the same time. Then they moved to the large, luscious king sized bed across the room.

“Ready?” George asked, sliding himself up the bed toward the soft gold and purple lined pillows.

“Of course,” Toru said, plastering on his perfected devious grin. It was strange, when it came to having sex, it was almost genuine with George. They’d done this so many times, and George always treated him so well. It was as close as he’d ever come to a legitimate lover.

It wasn’t to say that he specifically enjoyed it, but he’d been conditioned to hate sex, despite the fact that he was damn good at making it appear otherwise. But as far as sex went, this was as close as he got to actually liking it. He could literally get himself into it like flicking a switch, but he hardly had to do that with George.

Toru slid up the bed next to him, putting a hand on his leg. For 54, the man definitely took care of himself despite all the wine he drank.

“You look beautiful today,” George said, unclipping Toru’s suspenders from his shorts. He let them fall behind him, and Toru laid his hand across George’s as the man went for the buttons on his shirt.

“Just for you,” he whispered.

That seemed to be all it took. His shirt wasn’t even off when George dove for him, his weight pinning Toru down as their lips locked and George’s hand found the forced bulge between Toru’s legs.

He was slow and gentle, and Toru was able to lose himself in the act. He didn’t feel like he needed to be particularly guarded with George. It felt like what a waiter would feel when they were effortlessly interacting with customers whose company he legitimately enjoyed.

After a short time of simply making out and pleasuring each other with only their hands, Toru stopped him, climbed out from under him and removed both their clothing. He pushed George onto his back, and hovered above him.

“Jade, your stomach,” he commented breathlessly.

Toru looked down at his abdomen, remembering the bruises from the previous night. George’s eyes shifted to Toru’s wrists which were also still bandaged.

“Are you sure you’re ok to do this?” The look on his face was one of pure concern, and Toru almost loved the man for it.

“Please don’t worry,” he whispered, gently kissing the man’s ear, then trailing down his chest to his waistline.

He took George his mouth, eliciting a moan from the man as he expertly worked him with his tongue and his hands. Toru tried to keep things fresh and not too repetitive, and he stopped as George appeared to be hitting his peak.

He edged him further, ignoring his weeping manhood, touching him and kissing the rest of his body until finally the man jumped up, grabbed the box of condoms and lube and flipped Toru on his stomach. Somehow he managed to be rough and gentle all at once, and seconds later he was ramming into him from behind. Toru cried out in pain. No matter how many times he did it, it still hurt. George wasn’t huge, so he didn’t ask him to prep him with his hands. When the tricks prepped him, it hurt less, but they tended to last longer which also wasn’t a good thing in Toru’s mind. Most men didn’t prep him. He could take it.

But then his thoughts shifted to earlier that day.

Iwaizumi Hajime.

His breath caught in his throat as George hit his prostate, and this time the noise he made was one of pleasure.

What the fuck, why was he thinking like this?

George continued to pound into him from behind, lasting strangely longer than he usually did, and Toru couldn’t get the image of his old best friend out of his mind.

_“It was uh – good to see you.” He’d said._

George hit him perfectly, making a loud noise as his fingers dug roughly into Toru’s hips, coming into the condom. Toru’s head flew back, his timing perfect as he shot his own load onto the pillows before collapsing to the side, narrowly avoiding the mess he’d made.

“Fuck,” George whispered. “Damn, Jade.”

Toru panted for air, still unable to comprehend what had just happened. He’d got off on the image and the sound of his best friend. He wasn’t even here. It was simply the _thought_ of him.

“Jade? You alright?” George asked, snapping Toru back to reality.

“What? Yeah, sorry,” Toru said.

_Get your fucking head in the game. You’re working._

“That was nice,” he commented stupidly.

George chuckled, pulling himself and the condom gently out of Toru before dragging himself off the bed. “You’re telling me. I envy whatever man ends up with you. Or woman, perhaps? You never have told me your real preference.”

“Men, yes,” Toru replied, pondering the statement. He was so distracted.

“I was going to say… if you were into women, you fake it pretty damn well,” he laughed again. George was always in a fantastic mood after sex. Not that he wasn’t pleasant before, but he just seemed more genuinely happy after.

George ducked into the bathroom as he always did, returning a minute later with a warm cloth and cleaning Toru up. He was careful around his stomach and avoided the bandages on his arms.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” Toru muttered.

“You always say that,” George laughed, continuing his work.

He watched the man as he wiped down Toru’s legs. He really was so sincere and caring. He deserved so much more out of life. He really should get back out into the game, but Toru knew it wasn’t his place to say it.

He sat up on the bed, grabbing the pillows he’d soiled and pulling the pillowcases off, tucking them into themselves and tossing them on the floor. George had a cleaner that would come each week and put the place back together.

“Here,” George said, tossing a soft white housecoat at him. He caught it and wrapped it around himself, enjoying the feeling of the soft linens against his body.

George climbed back onto the bed, leaning against the headboard. He offered Toru a fresh pack of cigarettes. Toru obliged, and George tucked one between his own lips before setting the box beside Toru. George lit both cigarettes and sighed loudly.

This was also part of their routine. Red wine before, cigarettes after. It wasn’t a habit Toru particularly enjoyed, but the more he smoked, the more he realized why people did it. It was relaxing, as disgusting as it might taste. George always brought a fresh pack, and he always left it for Toru, so naturally Toru had a collection at home. He smoked on occasion, but not enough to get through an entire pack in a week. He also concluded that George didn’t smoke a lot either, given the fact that he never tasted of cigarettes _before_ sex.

They made small talk, the usual banter about how Toru should be doing more with his life. He’d learned to brush this off, politely thanking George for his concern. It was so casual now, so familiar.

Toru always grew sleepy, and George always tucked him into the bed before he got up, showered and left.

He would typically wait about fifteen minutes until he knew George was gone and then leave as well. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to drag himself out of bed. He let out an audible sigh and curled in on himself.

Why was today so hard? Why was he feeling like this? He’d been living this life for so long; he should be used to it by now. But for some reason, tonight it was getting to him.

He wondered how he would feel if George wanted to spend the night. He’d had clients before that had requested it, and of course he complied, but they always left before he woke up. He was _always_ the last to leave. That was how it went. He was getting paid; of course he couldn’t leave before the job was done. A part of him wished someone would kick him out once in a while, but it never happened.

Tears pricked the backs of his eyes and he hugged his knees to his chest. Iwaizumi’s face entered his mind again. What he wouldn’t give right now to see him, to hug him, for him to tell him everything would be ok.

He thought back to his high school days. Iwaizumi would rip him to pieces for overworking himself, give him shit for injuring his own knee, but then when Toru would cry, he would be there. He’d hold him and soothe him until he calmed down.

He’d been so stupid to let Iwaizumi walk away.

No, it had been more than that; he’d _pushed_ his best friend away. He’d been so mad that Iwaizumi had chosen school over volleyball, taken it as such a personal attack that he forced him away. God, he was such a fucking idiot. It was all his fault.

Iwaizumi had always teased him, saying that he couldn’t take care of himself. He’d joked back, asking if Iwaizumi was his mother, but he had been right. Look at him now… look at what a mess he was without him.

He wrapped his left hand around his right wrist and squeezed, fresh tears leaking from his eyes as he aggravated his own injures. It was too easy. But he hated himself for throwing away that phone number. He wanted so badly to see Iwaizumi again. He squeezed harder until he cried audibly, the physical pain clouding his mind until he couldn’t think.

And he cried and cried until he was all out of tears.

 _How pathetic_.

 

He didn’t know how long it took to compose himself. It felt like hours later that he finally sat up, the purple pillow case streaked with black. He’d cried all his make up off, and his eyes burned from the mix of tears and the make up but he didn’t care. He leaned against the headboard and lit another cigarette, staring up at the ceiling as he blew the smoke slowly up into columns. He glanced over at the night table, George had paid him more than necessary as usual. Oh well, at least he could justify taking a night off to let his injuries heal before walking back into unknown waters.

He still couldn’t shake the thought of Iwaizumi, but he’d brought his mind back to place that made sense at least. He hated that he’d thrown the phone number out, but he knew why he’d done it. It wasn’t fair for either of them to let Iwaizumi see what he’d become. His own dignity, or rather what was left of it, couldn’t handle it. And he knew that Iwaizumi would only worry, and that was no longer his responsibility, not that it ever should have been. There was absolutely no sensical reason for him to call Iwaizumi aside from his own childish desires. He’d had his chance; he’d fucked up and let that ship sail.

He’d burned that bridge long ago. Now all he could do was attempt to keep himself from suffocating in the smoke.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shall I continue this one? It's been a while since I did anything with Iwaoi.  
> Comments/feedback are greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rough and brutal and you probably shouldn't read it.  
> ....well, don't say I didn't warn you.

Toru granted himself the next night off and spent the majority of it sipping on diet coke in a 24-hour internet café working on his assignments. He no longer owned his own computer, his last one had died on him a couple of years ago and he didn’t want to pay for a new one, so he frequented this place. One of the night employees was a girl who had taken a liking to him and supplied him with all the soft drinks he wanted. He normally made an effort to tip her and be out of there by the time she got off work. He was fairly certain it was mentally ingrained in him to not to want to be the last to leave.

He’d gotten home just before the sun was coming up, his assignment having taken him longer than expected. He climbed into bed and passed out, sleeping soundly into the afternoon.

He awoke to the sound of a screaming child across the hall. This was normal. The parents that lived across from him seemed to have no regard for the fact that they lived in an apartment building and other people had to listen to their child. He’d heard on a couple of occasions screaming parents as well, which alluded to why exactly the kid was always crying. He’d almost knocked on the door once, but decided it wasn’t his place. He put himself in enough danger on a regular basis. The last thing he needed to be dealing with was abusive parents that weren’t even his own.

He felt guilty ignoring it, wondering what the kid was crying about and it if it was warranted. He shook his head and plugged his mini speaker into his phone, turning the volume up before heading to his coffee stash.

As he poured hot water over the coffee cone, the smell of coffee permeated his apartment, and he thought of Iwaizumi and his five sugars. He’d been thinking about him all night and had half a mind to go back to the coffee shop and wait for him to show up again.

He felt bad for throwing the number away. What must he have thought? That he didn’t want to see him? That he didn’t like him or he didn’t have time for him? It wasn’t like that; he wanted to see him so badly. But it wouldn’t be good for either of them. Maybe it was better that he assumed Toru didn’t want to see him again. Like a Band-Aid, right? Rip it off; get over it.

If only it was that easy for him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about his childhood best friend, and he seemed to be able to replay every conversation from their last weeks together over and over in his head. Toru had refused to attend his going away party in protest. He’d felt guilty after that. It made him wonder why Iwaizumi even bothered with him. All Toru seemed to be able to do was hurt him.

His sipped his black coffee, mindlessly heading back to his bedroom. He couldn’t take another night off. He had no appointments set up, so he was headed for the streets. He only hoped he’d have better luck than the other night, with that Johnny guy. He glanced down at his right hand in remembrance. The cuts were healing, but the base of his thumb was still raw and painful and he was still having a hard time using the joint. He’d ended up having to pull the mouse to the other side of the computer while working on his assignments. Typing had been painful, and he was beginning to worry that it wasn’t going to heal properly. He had it bandaged currently, but he wouldn’t be able to keep it like that for work. That sort of thing wasn’t attractive and people got all kinds of weird ideas when you had injuries, especially in that location.

He lazed around his apartment for a while trying to distract himself, cooking a breakfast of oatmeal and berries that he could hardly stomach, then giving up and heading to the corner of the room to get himself ready.

He sat on the chair at his vanity and watched as his reflection stared back at him, silently judging him. He liked the act of getting ready; he just didn’t like the thought of what it is was for. He wished he had an excuse to get done up for something other than work or just for the sake of doing it. What would it feel like to go on a real date? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it. But dating and this line of work just didn’t go together. He didn’t have enough self-respect as it was, and who the hell would want someone like him? Not only was he filthy and disgusting, but as long as he remained in this line of work, he could never be truly committed to someone. It was sad, but nothing else paid as well as this job, and he wasn’t about to go back to working retail where he could barely afford to pay his rent let alone go to school.

He forced himself out of the thought process, a mental act he’d become fairly good at, and pulled out his foundation bottle. He brushed the product into his skin and smiled as he saw his scars, his acne, and all of his imperfections disappear. Now if only he could apply foundation to the rest of himself. Next was his contouring make up, and he used to make his face appear more angular, his chin more slender and his brow less prominent. It was amazing what you could do with the right product.

His eyes were perhaps his favourite part of himself. His soft, milk chocolate brown eyes could appear sincere when he wanted them to and deadly when he didn’t. Brown was an easy colour to work with and its tones could be brought out by so many different colours in so many different ways. He went for pinks tonight, feeling the need to feel soft and delicate after the week he’d had. Light champagne intermingled into dark browns and an almost glittery fuchsia above his lid. He blended the colours together to get the desired eye-popping effect and smiled at the result. Gentle brown liner followed along the bottom and he finished the look with a bold mascara.

On his lips he brushed a soft blushed rose colour and lined it with an almost coral colour. It made his lips appear petite and soft and accentuated his satisfied smile.

He styled his hair, pulling pieces on the side into Bobbi pins and rubbing a small amount of wax into his palms to hold everything in place.

He liked the look, but as usual he frowned at its purpose.

 _One day,_ he told himself, _I’ll be able to dress up for a real purpose._

He sighed, holding onto the hope of that day and heading for his closet. He pulled on a pair of dark jeans that hugged his hips almost too tight for comfort and followed with a blue and purple paisley silk dress shirt. It was soft and felt nice against his skin as he buttoned it down, leaving the top three buttons open and tucked it into his jeans. It wasn’t his usual look, and he wasn’t showing a lot of skin, but it felt right for tonight. It hugged his form appropriately, so hopefully it would get the job done. He rolled up the sleeves and buttoned them just below his elbows.

It was probably too sophisticated a look, but he didn’t care. A part of him wanted to make the tricks feel intimidated enough to stay away, but the other part of him knew he needed the money. He knew it was contradictory. Whatever.

Around 9pm, he headed out the door, locking it behind him.

It was cold, and the humidity in the air threatened rain. He wished he’d brought a jacket, but he didn’t feel like stashing it tonight. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to wander too long.

He reached the street and attempted to force a bit of attitude into his posture, but his shoulders felt tight an uncooperative. He _really_ wasn’t feeling it tonight. Something just felt off.

“Jade!” A voice called.

It made him jump, and he cursed himself for the panic he new was present in his eyes, but it was short lived. He covered it up quickly; he was in survival mode. It was automatic.

But it wasn’t necessary. He felt his features relax as he found himself face to face with his friend.

“Neko,” he said, offering his arm in a hug as the taller boy approached him. Kuroo stepped into him and they embraced.

“How are you?” Kuroo asked, a caring hand on Toru’s shoulder. “Rose said you had a rough night the other day.” Rose was Tadashi’s street name. Toru felt like it suited him well; he was beautiful, after all. And then there was Kuroo who went by Neko that fit equally well. The guy was smooth and sassy like a cat, but when he warmed up to you it was like he was purring. No one did better around here than Kuroo.

“Oh yeah? What’d he say?” Toru asked, drinking in the physical contact from his friend. This was someone, like Tadashi, that he knew had his back. Kuroo had been there when he first got into this business, he’d taught him the industry and had been there to hold him and soothe him while he cried after his first night on the job. He was like the mom of boys on the street; he took care of them like family, and despite the fact that he appeared lanky and petite, he was strong. No one fucked with Kuroo. If he couldn’t take them down himself, he had people who would be there at the snap of a finger. Toru always felt more comfortable when Kuroo was around. But he was on the street less and less these days. He’d managed to get himself into a dedicated relationship with a guy, proving to all of them that there was hope.

“He just said you had a rough trick that addled your mind as much as your body,” Kuroo said, stepping closer and pulling Toru against his body. It was comforting, and the way he moved his feet was mesmerizing. He was a dancer first and foremost, and it showed in every movement he made.

“I guess that sums it up,” Toru said, forcing a laugh in order to make it sound more casual than he really felt. “I’m ok though. I’m back out here, aren’t I? He asked, gesturing to the street.

“That’s always out of necessity, never desire,” Kuroo said. “But I’m glad you’re ok. You let me know if you need anything hey? Don’t let those guys fuck with your head. We’re all messed up enough,” he laughed. Kuroo had a way of making things casual that shouldn’t have been even close to it. But then he’d been in the game longer than anyone. Toru wondered how he was making his relationship work.

“How’s your boyfriend?” Toru asked, legitimately curious.

“Wonderful, as always,” Kuroo sighed. Boy did this guy have it bad. “But hey, that’s a story for another evening. We both have work to do, am I right?” He winked.

“Yeah, I suppose so. Have a good one, Neko.”

“You too, Jade. Let me know if you need anything ok? Never hesitate to call.”

He watched the dark haired man walk away. Even his walk was pleasant to behold. Toru had no idea how he’d held onto all that grace over the years. He himself felt so filthy and battered and ragged, he knew he had nothing like that to his own step. It made him sad, and he knew that it had nothing to do with his bad knee. But now was not the time for such feelings.

He took a deep breath and attempted to steel himself. It just wasn’t working tonight. He felt like he had a weight on his shoulders and he couldn’t carry himself with confidence today.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the lone cigarette and lighter he’d brought with him. He rarely smoked before jobs; it didn’t taste good and it tended to push people away. But he really felt like he needed it tonight, so he slid it between his lips and sheltered the lighter as he lit up.

The first drag was heavenly, and he immediately felt the smoke flow into his lungs as though entering his veins and collecting all signs of tension and forcing them out as he exhaled. He felt his body noticeably relax, and allowed himself to lean against the brick wall behind him. It was cold, but it was soothing as he pressed his shoulder blade against it. God, he hadn’t even started working yet and he was already this worked up. It was not going to be a good night. He really wished he had a drink. Alcohol would chill him out a bit.

He contemplated hitting a bar for a shot or two, but decided against it. He couldn’t waste money like that. There was a reason he was able to afford a few classes at a time, and that was because his lack of reckless spending habits.

“Hey,” a voice came from behind him, scaring the crap out of him once more. But this time it wasn’t Kuroo. This time he had a reason to be afraid.

It was Johnny.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” Toru said, cursing himself for his honesty. The last thing he needed was for him to get the idea that he had that kind of power over him. He knew not to push too far in terms of confidence, but you also couldn’t act afraid. It put you in danger.

“It’s good to see you. I’ve been looking for you,” Johnny said. His voice was still and collected, holding none of the danger it had in the hotel room a few nights back. Who did he think he was fooling?

 _The same can’t be said for you_ , Toru thought to himself.

“Hey, Johnny,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. Was he going to do this again? He wasn’t sure he could handle this man tonight.

“I would like to enlist your services again, Jade,” he said, the name falling off of his tongue like venom. It made Toru shudder inwardly. He was actually surprised he remembered his name. He didn’t even remember him asking last time. Whatever, he couldn’t dwell on it. The bigger problem was, was he really going to put himself through this again?

“I’m not sure about tonight, Johnny,” Toru said. “My body needs some time to recuperate from… that.”

Johnny reached into his pocket, and Toru felt himself tense up as he half expected him to pull out a gun or a weapon. His breath hitched in his throat as he held his still burning cigarette at waist level.

But he didn’t. He held up a handful of cash. Five hundred-dollar bills, to be exact. Toru felt his gut drop. Usually payouts like that had strings attached. And here it came…

“No limits. I get you until sunrise,” He said.

Toru stared at the cash, his brain processing a mile a minute. It wasn’t as if he could say no. That was five times what he was paid last time.

“No bare backing,” Toru said, taking one of the bills and gently pressing into Johnny’s chest pocket. He took the rest of the bills and pocketed them, lifting his right hand to take another drag on his cigarette. He felt a twinge of pain in his still damaged wrist, as if to remind him.

“Like I would,” Johnny said, taking the bill from his pocket and shoving it at Toru. “Who knows what kind of diseases you’ve got,” he spat. “Now take that, go home and lose the ugly fucking shirt and this,” he gestured to Toru’s face, “this pink crap. You’re a man, not a fucking woman. Act like it.” He roughly smacked Toru’s bad hand and knocked his cigarette to the ground.

The malevolence had fully returned to his voice, and Toru felt himself subconsciously back up. “And leave that attitude at home, too. Same place, same room.” He said, shoving a keycard into Toru’s hand as well. “Oh,” he said as he was about to turn away, “and if it’s good, you get another pay out at the end.”

“Why are you paying me now?” Toru asked, the words out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “ I could take this and not show up.” He could hear his voice trembling, and he hated himself for it.

“I trust you to know what will happen to your friends if you don’t show up. That tall cat-friend of yours,” he smirked, “I bet he’d be a fun one. Wonder what he’d do if I made him watch me fuck up your little friend, Rose.”

Toru felt his mouth nearly drop to the ground. How did he know?

“See you in an hour. Don’t be late,” Johnny said, turning on his heel and walking away.

Toru waited until he was out of sight to exhale. His heart was racing as he glanced down, using his toe to put the cigarette out. His mind was racing, and he pulled the cash out from his pocket, taking inventory once more to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Nope, he’d definitely been handed $500 and told that if he didn’t show up, his friends were at risk.

FUCK!

How did he get mixed up with this guy?

His wrist burned as he pocketed the money again and turned to head for home.

 _Shake it off, idiot,_ he told himself.

It was one night; he could do this.

He did end up stopping at a store on the way home and purchasing a small bottle of whiskey. He figured he could do that much for himself in attempt to quell his raging mind.

He got home quickly and stared into his closet trying to decide what this asshole would deem appropriate. He hadn’t said anything about Toru’s clothing or make up the first time, but then he wasn’t exactly paying top dollar this time.

He shook his head and picked up the bottle of amber liquid and took a large swig, forcing himself to slosh it around in his mouth before swallowing. The taste was awful and it burned everything it touched, but it helped.

In the end, he decided on a plain white t-shirt, figuring he couldn’t really go wrong with that.

Next he washed off his make up. He hated it. He hated feeling so naked and vulnerable. It wasn’t even the notion of not being able to hide his imperfections, it was feeling completely raw and on display. He always felt like he could hide behind his make up, his viewers seeing that instead of the real him.

He contemplated taking off his knee brace, as he knew he’d be forced to remove it later, but decided to keep it on for the walk over. Winter was coming and the joint was getting stiffer and sorer by the day. As if he needed the constant reminder of _why_ he was where he was.

His stomach writhed, whether protesting the alcohol or just swirling with anxiety, and he took a deep breath. One night, it’s just one night.

At least this time he could wear a jacket. He wasn’t on display now, looking for jobs.

He arrived with ten minutes to spare at the hotel, and decided he’d just go up early. He didn’t remember the room number, but visually he remembered where it was. Right beside the elevator. Great, right where everyone could hear him if he cried out. He had no doubt he’d be doing just that tonight.

No limits… what the hell was this man planning to do to him? He shut his brain down before he could think, took one more deep breath and he knocked on the door.

“Good evening,” Johnny said, a terrifying smirk on his face.

“Evening,” Toru muttered, realizing at the last minute that he really needed to get his persona on. He tried to plaster a fake smile to his face, but he felt like he was failing. He had no idea what was happening to him; he’d been doing this for so long now and he’d gotten damn good at it. It was like something happened a couple days ago that had totally screwed him up.

He could only think of one thing…

“Clothes off, all of them,” Johnny barked. “And keep your head down.”

There it was, that need to control. Toru could sense it on him, and the fact that he had tied him up said it all, but now it was really coming out as he was clearly getting more comfortable in this arrangement.

Toru did as he was told. Head down, clothes off. He remembered from last time, this guy didn’t want a show, he just wanted him naked, and he wanted it now. So he complied, pulling all of his clothes off with haste, knee brace included, and tossing them in a pile off to the corner.

“Good, you’re a fast learner,” he said. Toru still didn’t look up. It was easier not to meet his eye, but he could hear the malice and disrespect in his voice. It scared him, but he attempted to talk himself down.

_It’s just my body. What’s the worst he can do that hasn’t already been done?_

Why was he feeling these feelings now? He wasn’t usually scared during a job. Was it just because he knew he was going to get hurt? But even then, he usually wasn’t this bothered. It was just a body… he’d been hurt so many times. Nothing could compare to the damage to his knee, both physically and mentally, so why was he so worked up? Why had he all of a sudden decided overnight that he was worth something? That his body was worth worrying about? He couldn’t. He would never survive if he thought like that.

He kept his head down, kneeling on the floor and awaiting further instruction.

“A natural submissive, I see,” Johnny said, the disgusting sound of a grin filling his words. It made Toru sick to his stomach. “With that attitude you displayed earlier, I wouldn’t have thought.”

He was bullshitting. The man wasn’t stupid. He could tell that Toru was stubborn and probably still had too much pride. Toru knew too well that this man was going to relish his opportunity to squash it. This was hardly even about sex. Or maybe it was… maybe that’s what he got off on. That or he was just a twisted fuck. Or perhaps both.

He watched from the top of his field of vision as the man stood up and walked to the other side of the bed, and heard as a zipper was pulled open. His bag of toys from last time.

_Here we go…_

He took his time, clearly liking what the wait did to Toru. He could feel his shoulders tensing, but he managed to disguise it into his submissive posture. His heart was racing as he saw the man’s legs emerge from behind the bed and approach him.

The same type of blindfold he’d had on before was wrapped around his eyes and tied tightly at the back of his head, leaving him in utter darkness. His heart raced even faster. Come on, he told himself, remember the benefits, you don’t need to try to keep your expression excited. But he couldn’t even think about it.

“Open up, slut,” the man said.

He didn’t clue in, and it earned him a hard slap to the face.

That was probably going to bruise.

“Open your mouth!” He boomed.

Holy shit it didn’t take much to get him worked up.

He did as he was told, and the man’s dick was roughly shoved past his teeth. He struggled to breathe, fighting with his own gag reflex as it attempted to force the object out of his mouth. He could feel the bile rising in his throat.

No, he couldn’t throw up. He’d never get that extra cash. If he was going to suffer through this, he was _going_ to earn the extra money.

He managed to compose himself, but he was hardly allowed to even try to pleasure the man, what with him roughly grabbing Toru’s hair, trusting in and out of his mouth at a rapid pace that left him with zero control. It was all he could do to keep himself breathing, not biting, and not puking.

The man didn’t have much stamina, and it wasn’t long before Toru felt him tense as he came into his mouth. It was disgusting, and he wanted nothing more than to spit it out. But he wouldn’t have been able to even if he’d wanted to as a wad of material was roughly shoved into his mouth, quickly followed but a second piece tied around his head to keep the first in, effectively gagging him and cutting off yet another measure of his control.

He could feel the tears in his eyes already, suddenly thankful for the blindfold. Blind or not, this was going to happen. It was probably better that he couldn’t see it. Maybe it was better that he couldn’t respond vocally either.

“Stand up,” Johnny ordered. “And fucking swallow already.”

Toru attempted to swallow, but with the massive wad forcing his teeth apart and drying his mouth out, it was extremely difficult. What was worse was that the material had absorbed some of the cum in his mouth and was now keeping it pressed against his tongue so he was forced to continually taste it.

Another smack to the face blindsided him, making him cry out through the gag. “I said swallow!”

He forced it down, nearly choking on the material in his mouth. His eyes were filled with tears now, and he only hoped the blindfold was thick enough and tight enough to keep them from showing.

He stood up, feeling disoriented and very unsteady. His bad knee threatened to give out on him, but he managed to get himself to his feet and in a fully upright position. It was short lived however, and he was roughly shoved forward as if he’d been kicked straight in the gut. He threw out his hands to break his fall, but came into contact with the bed faster than he expected, crushing his bad wrist between himself and the mattress. He bit down on the material in his mouth to keep himself from crying out in pain, but it didn’t work and a small squeal escaped the mess in his mouth.

Seconds later Johnny was on top of him, and his arms were forced together behind his back and tied tightly with rope, rubbing against the healing wounds on his wrists. Fuck did it hurt, but the pain was distracting and therefore almost welcoming. He held onto it, feeling the burn as he was forced up the bed.

_Feel it. Let it burn. Don’t think, just feel._

Suddenly Johnny’s hands were at the back of his head and the material was ripped out of his mouth and he panted for air.

“I want to hear you scream my name, whore,” Johnny said quietly. “Got it?”

He continued gasping for air, but he nodded his head in response, feeling like his voice would fail him if he tried. His mouth was so dry and his jaw was sore.

Wham! This time it was a fist that made contact with his face, rather than an open slap. “GOT IT?”

“Yes!” He cried, tasting blood, the pain radiating through his mouth and nose and cheek. His cheekbone felt like it was broken, and he bit down hard on his tongue to try to pull some of the pain to the other side of his face. It didn’t work.

He was flipped over so his arms were pinned beneath him and his body was fully exposed to the maniac above him. He was so used to being naked in front of strangers, but somehow this was different. He was afraid. Why had he agreed to this? The money wasn’t worth his safety, was it? Was it?

Suddenly the man’s hands were around his neck, compressing his throat and effectively cutting his oxygen off. He coughed and sputtered for air, but his hold was steadfast despite his attempted cries and pleas. The man’s hands were huge and crushing his airway and his neck and his lungs were screaming out in protest.

He was growing light headed, and his struggles were simply futile, his body slowly giving up while his mind continued to race and desperately search for a way out. He rubbed his wrists raw against the ropes attempting to free himself but to no avail. His already darkened world was growing fuzzy, and he felt the end coming.

He’d all but given up his struggle, feeling himself slipping from consciousness, no control over anything. He was going to die, blindfolded and tied up, in this hotel room.

Then the man was slapping his face again, shouting at him to wake up.

“Fuck you don’t last long do you, slut?” The man said to him. Toru could hear his feverish laughter over his own coughing. “Well, it seems like it got you turned on anyway,” he said, roughly grabbing Toru’s manhood and jerking him off. It didn’t feel remotely good, in fact it felt painful, and he ignored it, still gasping for breath.

He’d never been choked before. He’d heard of people doing it, but never understood it. He still didn’t. It scared the crap out of him, and he desperately wanted out now. He was done. He’d give the money back; he didn’t care.

“Let me go,” he said between coughs.

“Awww, is the little slut all scared now?” He teased.

“Seriously,” Toru said.

“Fuck you!” he said roughly, slapping him across the face again.

Toru squirmed against his bonds, but he was accomplishing nothing. He opened his mouth to try to plead with him again, but was met with another punch, this one catching his jaw at an awkward angle and making a cracking sound that radiated through his skull.

“Let me go!” He tried again.

“Shut up!” Johnny spat. “Fuck it,” he said, climbing off of Toru, who could hear the zipper again. Fuck he knew what was coming.

He heard tape being ripped from the roll, and soon after it was slapped over his mouth, jarring his sore jaw. He tried to twist his face away but had no luck. The tape was long enough that the end of it got stuck in his hair as well, and it pulled whenever he twisted his neck.

“Let’s try again,” the man said, hands closing around Toru’s throat once more.

 _Just fucking kill me!_ He was shouting inside, grunting and crying against the tape hopelessly.

Twice more he nearly lost consciousness, only to be slapped awake at the last second.

Toru wasn’t cooperative after. Johnny tried to force his legs open after the third time choking him, but he stubbornly refused, clenching his limbs together as though his life depended on it. Heart racing in his chest, he struggled against the man who was much stronger than he looked.

“Fine, want to play it like that, that’s just fine. More fun for me!” He laughed. Toru could hear him in his bag again, and he promptly felt more rope, this time being tied around his right ankle. Oh fuck no. He thrashed and writhed against the man, but it didn’t’ take long to completely immobilize him, legs spread wide apart, leaving him completely open to the other man who continued to laugh loudly.

He couldn’t do anything. He was hopelessly bound, held tightly to the bed, gagged, blind, unable to cry for help or get away. All he could do was try to shut off his mind and take what was coming.

He heard the condom wrapper, hoping beyond hope that he would make this quick. Despite the fact that he was hard, Toru was nowhere near turned on. If Johnny tried to penetrate him now, he was going to do some damage. Toru could usually get himself mentally worked up enough to take it, but he was in no fit state right now.

And Johnny did just that. No warning, no prepping, and no lube. He shoved himself straight in, and had Toru not been gagged, his cry would have pierced beyond the building.

The pain was insane, and he thought he was going to black out just from that. He could feel his insides ripping with every thrust, and he bit down hard against his tongue in attempt to combat it.

His blindfold was soaked with tears, and he could hear himself crying behind the tape over his mouth. He’d never wanted to die so badly in his life. He felt absolutely shredded to pieces, every ounce of his dignity torn from him as the man continued to slam into his battered and broken body, completely deaf to Toru’s cries. He could feel a sticky substance in his rear, and he knew it was his own blood.

So this was what $500 was worth.

He did nothing. He couldn’t. He simply laid there, feeling the physical pain wrack his body. He didn’t move, he didn’t struggle, and he’d stopped making sounds. He’d reached his breaking point, like the man could do no more damage no matter what he did. His body was completely drained of tension, and he might as well have been unconscious as far as Johnny was concerned.

But the man didn’t seem to care. He only seemed content that he’d finally broken the boy beneath him. He reached his climax, his body tensing before he felt on top of Toru, further jarring his injuries.

He remembered that he’d agreed to stay until morning. Surely he wouldn’t keep him here after this, would he?

As it turned out, he didn’t let him go right away. He took a break in the bathroom, leaving Toru in a heap on the bed, only to come back for another round. He didn’t seem to enjoy it as much, making less noise and less fuss. Toru couldn’t really blame him; he might as well be having sex with a dead body. He had absolutely nothing left.

Though as he lay there being raped over again, he couldn’t help the vision swimming in his mind.

Iwa-chan…

And he didn’t know why. Was it because he felt like he was dying? Or was it because that was the only thing in his life that was potentially positive enough to override what he was feeling?

That couldn’t be the case, because Iwaizumi wasn’t a part of his life. Toru had chased him away, and then made sure he couldn’t come back only days earlier.

Fresh tears overtook him, and he made an effort to keep himself silent as he sobbed.

“You’re fucking pathetic, Toru,” the man said.

At that he tensed. How did this man know his real name? He attempted to turn his head toward him in question, but his neck wasn’t having it, and he collapsed face first into the mattress.

“That’s right, I know who you are. You’re that fucking volleyball player. I knew I’d seen your face before. A face that gorgeous,” he said, now gently running his hand over Toru’s tape-covered cheek, “you don’t forget a face like that.”

He ran his hand down Toru’s chin and to his shoulder almost carefully. He continued down his back and to his thighs. “And it’s all because of this,” he said, his hand coming to rest on Toru’s bad knee, his fingers tracing the creases still indented from his knee brace. “This is why I get to have you.” The man slammed his fist into Toru’s knee, eliciting a brutal cry from Toru that made its way past the tape over his mouth. The pain was awful, radiating up _and_ down his leg, and this time he sobbed out loud, making no effort to stop it.

He felt the pressure on the mattress give, and he heard the bathroom door. But he continued to lie there crying, drenched in his own pain.

Minutes later there were hands on him again, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He couldn’t take it anymore. But this time they weren’t rough. They were on the knots holding his wrists together behind his back. He felt the ropes fall slack, and then he heard the door open and close.

The man was gone.

But he still couldn’t move. It was like his body was either petrified with fear or paralyzed with pain. In reality it was likely a combination of the two. He continued to sob, hoping to god that he was really alone.

He finally managed to force a bit of motion into his hands, though his wrists burned as soon as he started moving them. He managed to get himself free of the ropes, and despite the protesting in his shoulders, he pulled off the blindfold and glanced around the room. He was alone.

He managed to get the tape off his mouth, but maneuvering himself into a position where he could reach his legs was difficult and painful. There was indeed blood on the sheets, but not as much as he’d expected.

He stretched his aching body to reach his left ankle, fighting with the ropes but finding that his hands were too weak. He collapsed against the bed again, crying. It took him probably ten minutes to get his left leg free, and he dragged himself down towards the bottom of the bed and battled to get his right leg untied.

He was exhausted, his body was crumbling, and he nearly collapsed as he tried to stand up at the foot of the bed. His knee was swollen and already bruising where he’d been hit, and he was sure his face and his neck probably didn’t’ look any better.

He made it to the bathroom, turned on the shower and sat underneath it, the hot steaming water mixing with the tears that continued to roll down his face. He let himself sob, knowing there was no one around to hear it. He needed to get it out or he’d been crying the entire walk home. He wasn’t even convinced he _could_ walk home. Hopefully this shower would help with the pain.

He took inventory of his injuries, finding his wrists even more battered than before, the right one had began swelling as well, his knee was swollen, and his jaw was really sore when he tried to move it. Those were just his external injuries. He could still see blood seeping out of him from behind.

When he finally found himself in front of the mirror, he cringed at what he saw. His eyes were puffy and swollen, his right cheek was cut, bruised and fat, and his lip was bleeding rather profusely. His neck was also visibly bruised, and he was going to be wearing scarves for at least a week or two.

He finally dragged himself back out into the room and to his clothing. He found another $300 on top of his clothing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be thankful.

He sat on the edge of the bed as he gently pulled his brace back on over his swollen knee, then struggled with his pants. He had no balance right now and he felt light headed in addition to the fact that everything hurt. He tugged his shirt over his head and wrapped his jacket tightly around himself, zipping it up to his chin. He stuffed the money in his shoe before sliding his foot into the first one. His knee was not happy at all as he stood up. It was going to be a long walk home.

He attempted to hide his face from the receptionist as he left the building, feeling himself limping and hoping she wasn’t watching. It would be all he needed for them to call an ambulance, or worse the police at this point. It made him wonder if he should go to a hospital. He had no movement in his wrist now and his jaw didn’t feel sturdy either.

He ultimately decided against it, as usual. Instead he hit the street and started making his way home. There weren’t too many people out, and he could take his time, slowly limping along. As he came into the club district, there were more and more people but they were thankfully all too much of a mess to realize what a mess _he_ was.

He was almost far enough away from the club to stop worrying when someone noticed him.

“Hey, is that guy ok?” A guy's voice asked.

He didn’t look up; he just kept walking, attempting to even out his gait.

 _I’m fine; leave me alone,_ he thought.

“Oikawa?”

The sound of his name made him look up. His friends wouldn’t use his real name on the streets. It was someone else. He glanced around, his neck aching and his head spinning until finally he laid eyes on the source. But deep down he knew who it was, even before his vision cleared.

“Iwa-chan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides from flying objects* I'm sorryyyy!!!  
> But not really... already working on the next chapter.  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated and make me write faster ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your support! Your comments and kudos' have been extremely encouraging and have expedited the delivery of this chapter. Enjoy :)

“Iwa-chan?”

No. There was no way it could be him.

He was probably concussed, probably seeing things. It had to be an illusion.

He couldn’t be here right now. It wasn’t possible.

“Oikawa,” the voice came again.

No, he was definitely there, and approaching quickly. He stepped back quickly, and Iwaizumi slowed.

“Iwaizumi-san,” a girl’s voice. “What are you – oh my God is he bleeding? Do you need me to – ”

Iwaizumi turned away from Toru, cutting the girl off. “Marie, go back to the club.”

Toru could feel himself shaking. It was really Iwaizumi. This was possibly the worst follow up for the night he’d had. He could hardly stand the idea of being seen by Iwaizumi in a good state. This was awful.

But he was frozen. He couldn’t have run even if he’d wanted to.

Iwaizumi turned back to Toru, this time coming closer. He felt his stomach churn as Iwaizumi put his hand on Toru’s shoulder, and he stumbled slightly, moving to steady himself but his knee wasn’t having it and he fell.

Tumbling, down, down, the epitome of his life right now. He took it, and waited for the concrete to greet him roughly, to welcome him back to that cold, hard reality. He could almost hear it whispering, _I’ve missed you._

But it never came.

“Oikawa,” the voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm as Iwaizumi caught him. His body fell towards Iwaizumi.

“Oh my God!” The girl’s voice again. He could hear more footsteps approaching. “Iwaizumi-san, you shouldn’t touch him.”

“Marie, I’m serious. I need you to leave. Now.” Toru didn’t know if he’d ever heard Iwaizumi’s voice so stern. Maybe he had. It had been so long.

“What? I thought we were going back to your house to play games?” She whined.

“Change of plans.” He said, turning back to Toru and attempting to steady him. “Tsukki, can you _please_ take her home?”

“What? No! Let me help.”

“Marie! Stop it!” Toru felt his body jarred as Iwaizumi shielded him from the girl. Toru attempted to get his footing, pushing his weight onto his left leg and managing to stand against Iwaizumi’s hard and unwavering body.

“Come on Marie, let’s go,” another voice. It had to be Iwaizumi’s other companion.

Toru could hear her continue to protest, but his head was spinning too badly to comprehend what was going on around him any longer.

He felt himself being pulled in one direction, and his body tensed up with automatic fear.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Iwaizumi said carefully, “sit.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His legs gave out again and he gracelessly fell onto what he figured was a bench, the cold hard wood hitting him hard.

“Oikawa, what happened?” Iwaizumi asked, lowering himself next to Toru.

“Got jumped,” He mumbled, his jaw aching and his head swimming as he closed his eyes. It hurt so badly.

“Where does it hurt? Should I be taking you to the hospital?” Iwaizumi’s voice was frantic but calm at the same time, a feat only _he_ could pull off. Toru remembered.

“No,” he said suddenly, his eyes flying open. “No hospital!”

“Ok, ok shhhh. Where is this guy?” He asked, glancing up like a dog sniffing the air for its prey.

“Gone.” Talking hurt.

“Did he take anything from you?” Iwaizumi asked, turning back to Toru and gently touching his face as though he was going to turn his head, but deciding against it and pulling away. Toru wished he hadn’t.

“No.”

“Ok, we’re getting a cab, stay here.” Iwaizumi stood up, Toru watching him from under tired eyelids. He didn’t have the energy to fight him, and in his heart, he really didn’t want to. Normally he’d push that impulse down, but right now it was winning, and he simply sat there watching his old best friend glancing up and down the street in attempt to hail a taxi.

Quick footsteps returned to where he was sitting, or slouching, rather, and he found a jacket being pulled around his shoulders. “Sit up a bit,” Iwaizumi said. Toru did as he was told with some effort, and Iwaizumi’s large bulky black jacket was pulled around him, the hood pulled up over his head. “Can you stand?”

Toru tried and Iwaizumi pulled him, jarring his injured arm and making him grimace in pain.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Come on, let’s go.” An arm found its way around his shoulder, guiding him to the cab and depositing him onto the back seat.

Iwaizumi rambled off an address, and Toru felt the car pull away from the curb.

He could smell Iwaizumi’s scent on the jacket he was wearing. It was a smell he knew better than anything. He’d spent half his life in a house and bedroom that smelled like this, but it was more mature somehow now. He couldn’t describe it, but it was comforting beyond anything else. He inhaled deeply, drinking it in.

“The kid better not puke in my car,” the cab driver grunted.

“He’s not drunk,” Iwaizumi barked in return. “He’s injured. Now step on it.”

He’d never heard Iwaizumi so aggressive toward another human he didn’t know. He’d been like that with Toru, but never someone outside of their volleyball team.

“Seriously? If you get blood on my seats…”

“Oh shut up!” Iwaizumi snarled.

Toru felt himself tense at the aggression, he couldn’t take anymore tonight, but then a hand found his left hand and took it gently, the warmth from Iwaizumi’s hand permeating the permanent cold that had overtaken Toru’s body. “Stay awake, ok?” He said.

Toru nodded, trying to keep his eyes open. He was so exhausted.

“Right here,” Iwaizumi said after a few minutes of driving.

The car slowed and pulled over. “Seriously? You could have walked.” The cab driver was an asshole. Seriously.

“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi said, slapping some money down on the center console.

He climbed out of the car and soon after Toru’s door opened. Iwaizumi helped him out and steadied him. “Alright?”

Toru just nodded. He wasn’t, but it didn’t matter. What was he going to do? Crumble here? He felt like he just might.

“Let’s go.” A hand on his shoulder guided him to the entrance of an apartment building. It was nice, much nicer than the one Toru lived in. The walls were clad in deep burgundy paint with accentual figures and paintings lining them. The ground was dark slate in the entranceway, but gave way to a navy and gold carpet just past the elevator. They climbed into it, and Iwaizumi pressed the button for the top floor.

Seconds later they exited and Iwaizumi retrieved his keys, unlocking the door across the hall.

Toru entered, and found the room he stood in to be just as classy if not more so than the building itself. The small living space melded into a modern kitchen with marble counters, stainless steal appliances and a small black two-person eating space. The floors were a dark mahogany wood and small area rugs littered the living space. A large entertainment center housed a large television and an electric fireplace sat nestled in the corner. It was so comfortable.

Toru was guided to the small table and Iwaizumi pulled out a chair and sat him down, quickly heading to pull a glass from a rack and filling it with water. He returned and set it in front of him.

“Drink,” he said, before walking away again.

Toru did and felt something return to him.

“Oikawa, what the heck happened?” Iwaizumi asked softly, pulling the other chair up behind him so he was seated directly facing Toru.

“I told you,” Toru said stubbornly. He could hardly talk without pain, but even if that weren’t the case he would not have told the truth.

“Was there a motive behind this assault?” Iwaizumi asked, gently placing the side of his index finger on Toru’s chin and tilting it up so he could get a better look at his face. The hood fell off of his head and put him on full display. “This looks really bad.”

“I don’t know,” he said simply.

“Hang on,” Iwaizumi said, getting up from his chair again. “Zero to ten, how bad is the pain?” He walked across the hall to what looked like a bathroom and dug in the cupboard under the sink. The apartment was small and he could see everything pretty well.

“Eight?” Toru offered.

“Where?” Iwaizumi asked, returning with a black bag and a bottle of pain killers.

“Everywhere,” he mumbled.

“Can you be more specific?” Iwaizumi asked, opening the bottle of pills and pouring two into his hand. He offered them to Toru who held out his left hand.

Toru took the pills and with some difficulty, swallowed them with the water left in the glass. Iwaizumi sat across from him watching him, and Toru had no doubt that he’d seen him wince in pain.

“Look, I want to help you but I need you to tell me what hurts,” Iwaizumi said.

Toru wasn’t used to this. The only person who took care of him was Tadashi, and he even had trouble with him.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said softly. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.” Iwaizumi’s hand on his right knee was enough, and it all came flooding back to him. This was his best friend, the boy who had patched him up more times that he could remember when they were kids and even as they grew older.

Toru felt tears leak into his eyes that had little to do with pain.

“My jaw,” he said, sniffling and feeling the pain radiate through his head. “And my cheek.” His hand found the side of his face, but it hurt to touch.

Iwaizumi gently took Toru’s face in both of his hands, and Toru felt his heart rate quicken. His poor sympathetic nervous system must be exhausted with all the adrenaline racing through his body tonight.

“It looks like it’s out of alignment,” Iwaizumi said, gently prodding the sides of his cheeks and jaw with his thumbs. “It’s hard to tell because your face is so swollen.” He turned to the less swollen side of his face and examined the joint around his ear.

“Oikawa, I think it’s dislocated. It would explain all the pain.” He continued to feel the bones beneath his chin, his fingers brushing over his adam’s apple. “Are you having any trouble breathing?”

Toru shook his head. “Just talking. I can’t open it much.”

“You need to go to the hospital. I can set it, but it’s going to hurt like hell without some kind of local anesthetic.” Iwaizumi said, dropping his hands.

“No,” Toru said automatically. “No hospitals.”

“What is your issue with hospitals?” Iwaizumi asked exasperatedly. “I’ll do it, we just need to go there.”

“No hospitals,” he repeated, his jaw aching. He cursed Iwaizumi for making him speak needlessly.

“Toru…”

“Just do it. I can take it,” He insisted, placing his left hand on the bottom of his jaw. It felt like it was going to fall off his face if he let go.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Iwaizumi said. “Would you like me to stitch up that wound while I’m at it? You’d black out.”

“No hospitals,” Toru repeated.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi said, getting up from the chair again.

Toru sighed, feeling warm. He was certain it was because he was nervous and stressed. He shrugged off Iwaizumi’s jacket but kept his own on.

“Your shirt is covered in blood,” Iwaizumi said, stopping in front of him. He had another bottle of pills and an ice pack.

Toru simply stared up at him as if to say duh. He kept his hand on his jaw. It seemed to ache more when left unsupported.

“I’ll get you something to wear.” He turned away again, returning a moment later with a black crew neck sweatshirt in his hand. “Here, take one of these,” he said, popping the bottle open and handing him yet another pill. This one looked different.

He stared up at Iwaizumi questioningly.

“I’m not trying to poison you,” he stated, taking Toru’s glass and refilling it. “It’s a muscle relaxant. If you want me to reduce your jaw without anesthetic you need to at least take that. Actually on second though, maybe I should get you some alcohol as well.” He picked up both bottles of pills and stared closely at them, reading the bottles.

“Do you drink?” He asked Toru.

“Sometimes.”

“Alright, we’ll get to that. That’s going to take time to kick in anyway. Do you have a headache?”

“Yeah,” Toru admitted, hand still on his jaw. He really didn’t want to take his shirt off and expose the rest of his battered upper body. But he had a feeling Iwaizumi was going to force him.

He leaned over his counter, digging in what appeared to be a jar of pens. He pulled one out and approached Toru, leaning down to eye level. “Look at me.” Toru did, and Iwaizumi shone a light in his left eye, then his right. “Any blurred vision?”

“No,” Toru said.

“Nausea? Vomiting?”

“I felt nauseous earlier, but not anymore,” Toru replied.

“Did you get hit in the head? Or just your face?” Iwaizumi asked, now standing and poking through his hair.

“Face I think,” Toru said.

“Confusion? I don’t think so.”

“Who are you?” Toru asked, unable to resist the joke.

Iwaizumi stared at him, only realizing after a second he was teasing. “Well your sense of humor is intact, that’s a good sign. Did you experience any confusion?”

“I don’t know,” Toru said honestly. He’d been so shaken up at the time that there was no way to know.

“Any idea what your normal blood pressure is these days?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up from his chair again, this time picking up a brief case. He pulled out a stethoscope and wrapped it around his neck, then retrieved a blood pressure cuff.

Toru had to admit that seeing Iwaizumi like that, all professional and doctor-like, was hot. But he couldn’t think like that right now.

“I need that jacket off… and that shirt,” Iwaizumi said, clearly trying to keep his tone neutral.

Toru didn’t budge. How was he going to explain this?

He decided he wasn’t. “No questions, ok?”

“Oikawa, what the hell…”

He took off the jacket, hearing Iwaizumi’s sharp intake of breath, but then removed his shirt as well.

“Fuck, Toru.” His hands were on Toru’s right wrist, but it didn’t hurt like Toru had expected. He was careful and he moved his hands gingerly over the wrecked skin. “What the – ”

“No questions,” Toru repeated. “I will leave.”

Iwaizumi closed his eyes tightly and let his head fall back, taking a deep breath in and out. Toru watched him and waited, really hoping he wasn’t going to question him.

“Ok. Blood pressure,” Iwaizumi said, placing Toru’s arm back in his lap and wrapping the cuff around his left bicep.

“God you’ve lost weight,” he said, feeling for a pulse on the left wrist as he pumped up the cuff.

“No need to stay so fit anymore,” Toru said. The painkillers were kicking in, but so were the other pills. He could feel himself relaxing, and he moved his right arm up to his jaw to hold it on his forearm.

He felt the cuff inflate, tightening around his arm while Iwaizumi felt his pulse, then he turned a knob on the hose, quickly deflating it. Toru watched him put his stethoscope in his ears and pressed the diaphragm to the inside of his elbow and pumped it up again. He listened intently as he slowly let the pressure out of the cuff.

“I think you’re ok, but you’re gonna need to stay awake for a bit longer anyway,” Iwaizumi said, looking again at Toru’s face. “Let’s deal with your wrists, then we’ll do your jaw. Anything else I should know about?”

Toru hesitated. He didn’t like sharing like this. “My knee. But I think that’s normal.” He knew his rectum was also bleeding, but it had happened before. It would heal on its own. It wasn’t as if Iwaizumi could do anything anyway.

“Ribs?” Iwaizumi asked, gently palpating his torso. “Any sore spots?”

“Not particularly,” Toru said honestly. He was almost surprised at that. Ribs would be an easy target.

“Ok. Tell me if you start feeling nauseous or your vision gets blurry please.” He stood up again, this time washing his hands and filling what appeared to be a bread pan with water, and Toru instantly remembered how Iwaizumi used to cook him milk bread when they were in high school and Toru had had a really bad day. He wondered if it was the same pan.

“This is probably going to sting,” Iwaizumi said, taking Toru’s right wrist and pouring some kind of foam over it, letting it drain off into the pan.

It did string, but it wasn’t bad. Iwaizumi used a piece of gauze to clean the wounds on his left wrist, then taking his right and doing the same. He examined the wounds closely, then said, “Toru, some of these aren’t fresh…”

“Iwa-chan, please,” Toru said, his words coming out sounding more helpless than he would have liked.

“Are you in a violent relationship?” Iwaizumi asked.

“No questions, please,” he begged. “I just… can’t right now.”

“Ok, I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m just worried about you.” Iwaizumi didn’t look up after that, his attention fully on treating the wounds. He closely examined the injury at the base of his thumb, moving his wrist around a bit before seeming to have decided what he was doing.

“It hurts to use your thumb?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Yeah.”

Toru watched as Iwaizumi used a Popsicle stick looking device to spread some kind of ointment over the wounds, then began to wrap a roll of gauze around the cuts.

“Why didn’t you text me after we ran into each other at the coffee shop?” Iwaizumi asked.

Dammit. He wasn’t ready to answer that. He’d said no questions, yet here he was asking questions.

“I’m sorry,” Toru said. Dammit, his jaw still ached despite the medication. “Can we not talk until you fix my jaw?” He asked, seeing a way out of this conversation.

“Yeah, right. Sorry,” Iwaizumi said. He sounded sincere, but he also sounded frustrated. Toru couldn’t really blame him.

Toru watched Iwaizumi’s brow knit with concentration as he wrapped a thick piece of material around the base of Toru’s thumb, then secured it in place with an elastic bandage, effectively immobilizing his thumb and wrist.

“There, that should help. You’ll need to change the bandages underneath, but keep using the splint for a week or two. When you take it off to change the bandages you can work out your range of motion.” He’d gone into full doctor mode and he now looked completely detached. “Other hand, please.”

Toru complied, offering him his left hand and holding his right knuckles to his jaw. He watched intently as Iwaizumi applied the same ointment and wrapped them with gauze as well.

“Here,” Iwaizumi said, pushing the supplies out of the way and helping him pull the sweater over his head. “Can I clean the cuts on your face?”

Toru nodded, not saying a word as he leaned closer. Iwaizumi picked up a new piece of gauze and gently brushed at Toru’s lip. His touch was so tender that Toru thought it would make him melt. It reminded him of the times when they were kids, except then Iwaizumi wasn’t gentle. He’d scrub the cuts on Toru’s knees harshly before throwing Band-Aids over them and insisting they go back out to play.

It both amazed Toru and broke his heart. He was still the same person, but at the same time he wasn’t. Their relationship was gone. There was nothing left. And all because of Toru, it wasn’t going to go anywhere.

Iwaizumi bandaged the cut on Toru’s cheek, before leaning back, apparently satisfied with his work. “Feel ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, Thanks, Iwa-chan.”

“Want to do a couple of shots before I reduce your jaw? It’s going to hurt like hell,” Iwaizumi said matter of factly, as though he was telling Toru the simple answer to an addition problem.

“Sure, couldn’t hurt.” Toru said, leaning forward against the table. His body was so exhausted. He just wanted to collapse.

Iwaizumi pulled out two shot glasses from the cupboard. “What kind of liquor do you drink?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Toru said honestly. He really didn’t care. It all burned the same.

Iwaizumi pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and filled both glasses, then capped it and set it on the table. He put both shot glasses in front of Toru.

“You’re not having one?” Toru asked, picking up the first glass.

“I’ve had a bit to drink already. I’ll have some after I’m done with you.”

Toru stared, but didn’t reply. Instead he tossed the first shot back as effectively as he could without opening his mouth much, then followed quickly with the second. It burned going down and he felt his face twist with disgust and bring about more pain to his sore jaw.

“Ok, just do it,” Toru said.

“Sure you don’t want one more?” Iwaizumi offered, his hand on the bottle.

“I’m sure.”

“Ok,” Iwaizumi said, standing up from his chair and heading to the sink again, washing his hands. He put on a pair of gloves and approached Toru, tilting his head up again.

“Open your mouth as much as you can,” Iwaizumi said. “It’ll be quick but it’s going to hurt.”

“Just go,” Toru said, clenching his eyes closed.

The next second, Iwaizumi’s hands were in his mouth, his thumbs pressed against his bottom teeth on each side. He gripped the bottom of Toru’s jaw and snapped down and up.

The pain was tremendous, but he felt and heard a click, like a joint cracking. The sensation was similar too. It hurt, but it felt like the joint _needed_ to be cracked, and it was in part relieving.

“You ok?” Iwaizumi asked, his hand on Toru’s shoulder.

Toru’s hand immediately found its way to his check and he leaned forward, teeth clenched in pain. “Yep,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I’ve never done that before,” Iwaizumi said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “At least not on a real human being.”

“What?!” Toru demanded, looking up at Iwaizumi.

“Hey, it worked didn’t it?”

“Did you even know what you were doing? Ah,” shit it still hurt.

“Of course. I did it in labs on dummies. Here, sit back.” Iwaizumi said, digging in the black bag again. That thing must have had an endless supply of bandages, as he pulled out yet another roll. “I’m going to wrap it. It’s going to be unstable for a while. You can still talk, but it’ll keep it stable and from opening too far.”

Toru nodded, bowing his head to Iwaizumi. He was reminded of bowing his head to Johnny as the man blindfolded and gagged him, and he felt his body involuntarily tense.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Toru said, forcing his shoulders to relax. He held his jaw tight as Iwaizumi wound more bandages around the bottom of his jaw to the top of his head. He tied it off and stepped back, Toru looking up at him.

Iwaizumi laughed a bit, “you look ridiculous, but it should help.”

Toru felt his face, feeling the bandages running up to the crown of his head. He wouldn’t be caught dead like this under regular circumstances, and yet here he was.

“Thanks,” he mumbled through tight teeth. It served its purpose, and he didn’t feel the need to hold his jaw up any longer. The pain was starting to subside, and he was feeling groggy, stoned and drunk.

“Want me to look at your knee?” He asked.

“No. It’ll look the same as it did last time you saw it,” Toru said.

“Alright. Put that ice on your face. It’s probably going to swell more now.”

Toru did as he was told, and Iwaizumi led him to the couch in the sitting area, flipping on the fireplace. “Do you want some sweat pants?”

“Yeah, ok,” Toru said, following him to his bedroom.

Iwaizumi gave him a pair of black sweat pants and left him to change. When Toru came back out, Iwaizumi had a blanket on the couch waiting for him and two glasses of some kind of light golden liquid.

“How do you feel?” Iwaizumi asked, handing him a glass as he sat down.

“Tired.”

“You know, I went back to that café the last two days looking for you,” Iwaizumi said, taking a large sip of his drink.

Toru sipped his own drink, pulling the navy blanket across his lap and setting his right hand down across his knee. It was difficult to get comfortable despite his present state of intoxication. But maybe the most difficult part of all was the conversation. He was not prepared for this and his mind wasn’t sharp enough to figure it out.

“Look, I get that I hurt you when I left. I know you were upset,” Iwaizumi said. “And if you don’t want anything to do with me, tell me and I’ll disappear.”

Toru’s eyes widened completely on their own. “Iwa-chan, no! It’s not … it’s not like that at all.” He sighed. There was no way he would be able to tell him to go away. But at the same time, he couldn’t tell him where he’d been and what he’d been doing. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Don’t apologize,” Iwaizumi said, sliding himself closer to Toru, but holding back.

He felt filthy. Like he shouldn’t be in this apartment, on this couch, under this blanket. He was soiling the place, and the last thing he wanted to do was soil Iwaizumi too. He deserved so much better than that.

“I tried to find you, after I heard you got hurt,” Iwaizumi said. “I wanted to talk to you even before that, but I thought you needed time.”

“You tried to find me?” Toru repeated.

“Yeah, but your number was out of service, your Facebook account was deactivated, and no one seemed to know where you’d disappeared to. I even hacked the university’s records, but I saw that you’d dropped out.”

Toru turned away. He really didn’t want to tell this story right now.

“I’d pretty well given up. Part of me thought you’d actually died, but then you were a relatively famous athlete, I would have heard, right? Then that day… in the coffee shop. Well I don’t know if it showed, but I was in shock.”

“Iwa-chan…” He didn’t have words. He’d legitimately thought that Iwaizumi had found a new love – his career. He’d never in a million years thought that he would try to find him.

“Toru, what happened to you,” Iwaizumi asked, his hand reaching for his.

But Toru retracted his own. He didn’t know exactly what he meant by that. Did he mean currently? As in how did he get these injuries? Or did he mean long term, as in how did he end up in this situation. Either way, it didn’t matter. “Iwa-chan, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He took a deep breath. Despite what he wanted more than anything else, he had to keep his distance. It killed him, but it was necessary.

“I’m not the same person I was four years ago,” he said quietly, fiddling with his bandages. “I don’t know what I have to offer you anymore. I can’t play volleyball, and I’m really terrible with people.”

“You don’t have to give me anything, Oikawa. And like I said…. If you want me gone, I’m gone.” Iwaizumi said it with clear pain in his voice. Toru wouldn’t have needed to know him for the better part of his life to hear it.

“I don’t… want you to disappear. I just… I don’t think I’m ready.” He wasn’t really sure what he meant by it. But it would at least buy him some time to figure it out. Maybe when his head was in a better place, he’d know what to do.

Iwaizumi almost smiled. Almost. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks.”

He watched Iwaizumi visibly relax. Was he really this concerned about him? Did he really want to know him that badly? Or was it just because he felt sorry for him… Toru had now way of knowing, but it made him feel anxious. Nobody wanted to know him that badly.

“Your knee, was there no chance of fixing it?”

“No. Not even a 5% chance with surgery.”

“So that’s what happens when I leave you alone,” Iwaizumi chuckles, but then his slight smile falls. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop it, Iwa-chan. It should never have been your responsibility to take care of me.”

“Well I took that upon myself, didn’t I?”

Toru sighed. He couldn’t handle this conversation right now. He was exhausted, and his body was done. “Can I sleep, Iwa-chan?”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi said. “Do you want to share my bed? Or… is that weird.”

“The couch is fine,” Toru said, not elaborating. He wasn’t ready. He was filthy. He didn’t’ want to bother him… his mind exploded with excuses, but he chose not to bother. Iwaizumi would get it. Hopefully.

“Ok. I’ll leave my bedroom door open. Come get me if you need anything, alright?”

“Alright, mom,” Toru said, forcing a partial smile past the pain and bandages.

“It’s been a while since you called me that,” Iwaizumi said, a warm smile forming on his face.

_It’s been a while since I had the opportunity._

He didn’t reply, so Iwaizumi obviously took it as his cue to leave him alone.

“Alright, well, have a good sleep.”

“Yeah, you too. Thank you for everything. Seriously.”

“It’s nothing,” Iwaizumi said. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you.”

He wasn’t sure how much truth there was to that. But right now, it felt like the right thing to say. Maybe it was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lighter? A bit... maybe not. I'm not sure.  
> Thoughts and comments and kudos are appreciated :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so long overdue. But it is extra long to make up for it! 
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful ShatteredEpiphany for all her help with this. Toru wouldn't be as pretty without you, and this story would have WAY more errors ♡

Chapter 5:

Toru woke the next morning, confused and in pain. Light was streaming into the unfamiliar room, blinding him and forcing him to close his eyes once again. His body ached and protested, part of it pushing him to go back to sleep to pretend today didn’t exist, but another part compelled him to get up and find something to numb the pain.

He glanced around the room, realizing it wasn’t his own.

_Where the hell am I?_

His first thought was that he he’d fallen asleep in a hotel room, but this place was far too nice.

Then he thought back to last night.

Johnny. That explained the pain.

Then he’d run into Iwa-chan.

His mind jumped to the correct conclusion. This was Iwaizumi’s apartment.

And the memories came flooding back.

His head ached, but he doubted it had much to do with the couple drinks he’d had last night.

No, he’d only had a drink initially because of his jaw… and the… setting of it.

His hand jumped to his cheek, and he felt the bandage still in place. It hurt so badly. Along with the rest of his face. He clenched his eyes tight, but that only hurt more. He knew he needed to relax his face, and he tried.

It took some time, but he managed, and pulled his head off the pillow he’d been sleeping on sideways. That must be why it hurt so much.

He managed to sit up, pushing himself off the couch with his left hand and into a sitting position, examining the bandages on his right wrist. That hurt too, but being immobilized, it wasn’t quite as bad.

It was all starting to come back. The time with Johnny, the pay, the fact that money was still in his shoe… Shit! What if Iwaizumi had seen? He would definitely know. He wasn’t stupid. He’d put the pieces together.

Fuck!

But the more he thought, the more his head ached. Then he remembered how badly he’d been hit. He needed pain killers. What were the chances Iwaizumi had left something out for him? Was he even here?

It was bright in the apartment, likely midday. They had been up late. Maybe Iwaizumi was still asleep?

He struggled to get his feet on the ground, testing his legs. His bad knee was sore, very sore, but he was able to stand and he steadied himself against the wall.

Then he spotted the note on the coffee table, and he moved closer to read it.

‘ _Toru,_

_Take these pills, they’ll make you feel well enough to get home. Though if you’d rather stay, feel free. There’s food in the fridge, and I’ll be home at 6:30ish. I left you my number, since you didn’t seem to have a phone on you, otherwise I’d have taken your number. Please call me this time. I’ve missed you, and there’s so much more I want to say to you. Last night didn’t seem like the right time. I’m so worried about you. Please call me._

_Iwaizumi <3_’

Toru stared at the letter feeling the lump grow in his throat. He was so conflicted by it. Had Iwaizumi really missed him? He’d said that he’d tried to find him after he’d been injured. And there was more he wanted to say? What else could he say? Was Toru totally missing something? Or did he just want to pick Toru’s life apart, to know what he was doing? He said he was worried about him. If that was the case, he should probably stay away. But maybe there was something about the past he wanted to say? Could he risk it? No one had ever known him like Iwaizumi. No one could see through him like Iwaizumi. If someone was going to figure him out, it was Iwaizumi. And it scared him. He didn’t want to be judged. He didn’t want to be seen as filthy by someone who had once held him in such high regards. He didn’t’ know what to do.

He picked up the pills and downed them dry, feeling the pain in his jaw at the movement. He sat back on the couch and stared at the letter, picking up the small scrap piece of paper with his former best friend’s phone number on it. He wanted to keep it, he really did.

He leaned back against the couch, sitting this time, waiting for the pills to take effect. He didn’t often take painkillers; they were too expensive. He’d used alcohol to dull his pain before, but he also didn’t typically have much of that kicking around. While his knee was a constant source of annoyance, it didn’t usually hurt enough to need to take medication for it. He was used to it.

It felt like a while before he woke up again, having snoozed once more waiting for the pain pills to begin to function. Now his head felt dull, and his jaw and head hurt less. It was time to go home. As much as he wanted to stay until Iwaizumi got home, he knew he needed to go.

And so he did. He changed back into his own clothing, folding Iwaizumi’s clothes and setting them on top of his washing machine, encouraging him to wash them. He was dirty, after all. Iwaizumi didn’t need to be tainted like that.

Once he pulled himself together, he downed a large glass of water, feeling like he couldn’t separate his jaw enough to eat. Even if he could, he wasn’t about to eat Iwaizumi’s food. He was going to have to figure it out once he got home. Thank god he had a blender.

He pulled his jacket around him, throwing his hood over his head and zipping the zipper up to his chin in attempt to hide the bandage around his head.

It didn’t take him too long to get home. Maybe forty-five minutes of walking. It was nice out, or at least not raining, if a bit cloudy. But forty-five minutes of walking was going to do a number on his knee and he knew it, but a part of him felt like he deserved it. Getting his ass kicked and essentially raped last night was definitely not part of his plans, but the aftermath with Iwaizumi felt too good to be true. That kind of thing didn’t happen to him. The only solution he could muster up was that it was just fate’s way of teasing him with what he definitely could not have.

He couldn’t reveal himself to Iwaizumi. And if he did, there was no way Iwaizumi would want anything to do with him. Prostitutes were hated. There was a reason that his only friends were other prostitutes. He’d given up on his life outside of work.

He made it home, collapsing on his bed, exhausted as he walked through the door. He really needed to eat something. He rolled over on the bed, grabbing at his phone with his good hand.

He had several messages, most of which were from Tadashi.

**Yama: Hey where you at?**

**Yama: Haven’t seen you all night.**

**Yama: Neko said he saw you and you didn’t look great.**

**Yama: Maybe you left your phone at home.**

**Yama: Text me when you see this please.**

**Yama: Dude are you ok?**

**Yama: Getting worried here Toru.**

**Yama: Fuck Toru please call me.**

There were four missed calls as well.

He quickly opened the messages and texted him back.

**Toru: Hey sorry, I left my phone at home. I was out all night. I’m ok.**

He knew it was a lie, but he wasn’t about to tell him that he wasn’t after his evident freak out. He’d tell him what happened later.

**Yama: Thank God! You scared me.**

**Toru: Don’t worry. I’m fine. I need to sleep some more though. Can I call you in a bit?**

**Yama: Yeah. Hey you have plans tonight. Big plans. 9:30 at Kuroo’s. He has big news.**

He stared at the message. He was so not in the condition to go out.

**Yama: I have a guess, but I don’t wanna say.**

He couldn’t exactly say no.

**Toru: Yeah ok. I’ll text you in a bit.**

**Yama: Sleep well.**

**Toru: Thanks.**

He put his phone down and felt his anxiety run rampant. As much as he loved his friends, he was so not ready to explain his physical condition nor what happened to him last night. Who knew how many people Kuroo would be inviting over?

He’d lost his appetite, and now he just wanted to sleep despite the fact that he felt like he’d slept at least 10 hours last night.

Even so, he stripped off his clothing, pulled on his worn out pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets gingerly over his head.

 

He must have fallen asleep, because he woke with a start some time later. He glanced at his clock. It was past 6 in the evening. Then he realized what woke him up. His phone was ringing.

His automatic response was to lunge for his phone, but his body was slow moving. He tried to reach across the bed, but everything hurt. He had to gently sit himself up and give his body a minute to settle.

He squinted at the phone, seeing the dark hair and pink shirt; it was definitely Tadashi.

He had to half throw his body, half lunge with his abdominal muscles, but he managed to reach the ringing, offending object. He hit the green button, answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Damn you are alive!” He sounded a bit frantic.

“I was sleeping,” he said, attempting to clear his voice.

“Oh, I’ve been texting and calling and you didn’t answer so I was worried.”

“Shit, sorry,” Toru said. Damn, how had he slept so long?

“I’m outside,” Tadashi said.

“What?”

“Yeah, is that ok?”

“Yeah, sorry. Um, I’m not in the best shape right now.”

“What? What happened?”

“Another rough night,” he mumbled. He raised a hand to his jaw, feeling it, but finding it was still very tender. He wanted to pull the bandage off but he wasn’t sure if that was smart.

“Shit, you ok?”

“Um, you’ll see,” he said. “I’ll hang up and you can ring the buzzer.”

“Sure.”

Toru hung up his phone, dropping it into his lap and pulling his knees up to his chest. He sighed deeply, resting his eyes until the phone rang again. He answered it again, this time clicking the six to buzz his friend in. He was not looking forward to explaining this.

Then again, he thought as he pulled himself to his feet, it wasn’t like there was much to say. Tadashi would probably ask why he’d gone back and he’d tell him, then he’d get that pitying look on his face, like he wasn’t in the same position as Toru. He wouldn’t have said no either, but Toru would never point that out to him. There were few people who were allowed to feel sorry for him, not that he’d ever ask for it. But somehow it was ok because it was Tadashi, and he was in the same place. It would be a lie to say that Toru didn’t feel sorry for him in return.

He stood against the wall, but decided in the end to simply unlock the door and head for the kitchen. He needed a strong cup of coffee if he was going to put his social act on.

It wasn’t really an act. It was more a need to motivate himself. He could be himself around his friends more than anyone else. He could show his true colours, colours he would never show someone like Iwaizumi now. But still, it was difficult to drag himself out of his apartment to take part in events like this.

A knock.

A response.

The door opened, and Tadashi’s face fell into exactly the position Toru knew it would.

“It looks worse than it is,” were the first words out of his mouth. It was probably a lie; he hadn’t seen his face since the previous night. “Just… don’t, ok?”

“Sorry,” Tadashi said. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“What’s to tell?” He asked.

“Same guy?”

Toru nodded.

“Did he break your jaw?” Tadashi asked, approaching him and gently reaching up to his face. He stroked his cheek gently, hand gracing over the bandage. It felt warm and comforting.

“Dislocated.”

“Shit, that bastard,” Tadashi said.

Toru could see the rage in his eyes. He knew that Tadashi would go through hell and back to protect him, but Toru would never let him. He’d never put him in danger like that. He would take the beating 100 times over for his friend.

“Don’t worry about it,” Toru said. “Want some coffee?”

He knew he’d say no, but he always offered.

Tadashi wrinkled his nose adorably and shook his head. “I’ll get some water though,” he said, hopping over to the kitchen. The guy always had a jump in his step, and Toru could hardly handle it. It was cute, but at the same time Toru had no idea how he remained so bright.

“Are you ok to come tonight?” Tadashi asked hopefully. “I think it’s pretty important to Kuroo.”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” he said, now pouring the coffee into a cup before adding some milk to cool it. “Any idea what it’s about?”

“I have an idea, yeah, but I don’t want to say anything. He just sounded really excited.”

“Have you met his boyfriend?”

“Negative. Maybe tonight?”

“Hmm,” Toru hummed. He wasn’t sure he could handle that tonight. The last thing he wanted was to be seen like this, and yet he had no motivation to do anything about it.

Tadashi’s phone lit up, and he recognized Kuroo’s face on the screen.

“Hey,” Tadashi said, answering the phone.

“I’m at Toru’s place. Why?”

“Right now?”

He remained quiet, listening to Kuroo, then glancing up at Toru.

“Kuroo wants to pick us up now and drop us off at his place. That way we don’t have to walk later. That work?”

Toru shrugged. He really didn’t want to go out at all, but getting a ride was probably a better option to having to walk around in public later. “Sure.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tadashi said back into the phone. “Sure, text me.”

Tadashi hung up and set the phone down. “He’s five minutes away. Better toss that coffee back,” he said.

Toru nodded and took a large drink before standing up. He crossed the small kitchen, feeling the sting in his knee getting worse as the wound continued to swell over time. He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a to-go coffee cup and poured the rest of his drink in, screwing on the lid.

“You just can’t go without that stuff, can you?”

“Nope, I can’t. Are we dressing up for this event?” He asked as he moved toward his wardrobe, swinging open the doors.

“Um, semi?” Tadashi replied, heading over to where Toru was standing. He set a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t overdo it though. I think it’s a pretty casual event.”

Toru grabbed a couple of pairs of pants and a couple of shirts. He would decide what he was wearing later on. For now he shoved his legs into a pair of black, tapered sweat pants, pulled a beater tank top over his head and a long, grey sweater. He just wanted to be comfortable for now.

“Kuroo is going to lose it when he sees you; you know that right?”

“Yeah,” Toru said. He pulled the hood on his sweater over his head. “It’s fine.”

Minutes later, Tadashi’s phone rang again and the two headed downstairs. Toru was grateful he had the railing on the stairs to lean on, as his knee felt awful.

He knew he was limping hard as they approached the black Honda sedan, and their friend climbed out of the front seat, his smiling face falling as his eyes went from Tadashi to Toru. His expression was hidden behind red-framed glasses, but the concern was as livid as ever.

“What happened?” He asked, walking around the car to open the front seat for Toru, taking his duffel bag for him and placing it in the back seat beside Tadashi.

“Rough night,” he said simply.

“Oh yeah?” Kuroo asked, climbing into the driver’s seat and pulling the door closed behind him. “You ok?”

Toru pulled his hood down. “Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said, wondering why he was being so honest. Kuroo had always been such a mentor, but it was unlike him to just open up and talk like this.

“Who was this guy?” Kuroo asked, putting the car into gear.

“Same guy as last time, that Johnny guy,” he said.

“Ah, that one. Seriously, do we need to do something about him?” Kuroo asked, switching gears and speeding up.

Toru glanced at him from his peripheral vision in a way that Kuroo couldn’t see. His hair still had the same shape it normally did, but it wasn’t refined as normally. It had always been a running joke that this hair took that shape due to his bedhead, but Toru was pretty sure it was 100% true. He had minimal make up on, foundation and mascara with a touch of light eyeliner. He looked so natural aside from his glasses that Toru thought accentuated his cat eyes perfectly. They even had slight horn rims to them in their top corners. It was a different look on him, but it suited him well.

“I don’t know,” Toru said, remembering the fact that he’d held his friends’ safety over his head. “I think it’s fine for now.”

“Well just let me know,” Kuroo said.

“Thanks,” Toru said. “So who is coming tonight?” He changed the subject.

“Just you guys, Keiji and maybe Ko. I’m keeping it small.”

“Ah, makes sense. Are we going to your place?”

“No actually. Tsukki is away and I’m staying at his place, so we’re going there,” he said, the smirk heavier in his eyes than on his lips.

“Oh really?”

“Mm. He’s got a nice place. I’m going to drop you guys off while I run to an appointment. You guys can put yourselves together while I’m gone.”

“You’re trusting us there alone?” Tadashi piped up from the back seat.

“Of course, what are you going to do? Spill foundation all over the carpet?”

“Maybe,” Tadashi laughed.

“That’s fine. There’s no carpet anyway,” Kuroo laughed. “It’s all hardwood.”

The drive wasn’t long, but it was longer than Toru would have liked to walk given his current state, not to mention his appearance. Kuroo pulled up to a townhouse complex, throwing his blinkers on and hopping out of the car. “One sec,” he said to Toru.

Toru looked at him questioningly, but Kuroo hurried around the car, pulled open his door for him and scooped him up in his arms, bridal style.

“What?” Toru questioned as he was swept off his feet. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you. I know your knee is shit right now,” Kuroo grinned.

“Are you sure you want to be seen carrying another man in front of your boyfriend’s place?” Tadashi asked, pulling both his and Toru’s bags from the trunk of the car.

“Stop worrying,” Kuroo laughed, “And grab my keys out of my pocket, will you?”

Tadashi grabbed the lanyard from Kuroo’s pocket and headed in the direction of the door the taller man nodded to. Toru clasped his left arm around Kuroo’s neck, holding on for dear life. He knew Kuroo was strong, but he was also lanky as hell, and he felt unstable.

He stumbled slightly, but caught himself on the doorframe, laughing as he steadied the two of them.

“Wow, put me down,” Toru said, smiling but still feeling nervous.

“No way,” Kuroo laughed, kicking off his shoes and pulling Toru deeper into the house. It wasn’t until he’d made it to the plush looking living room that he finally put Toru down on the couch, dumping him unceremoniously.

Toru whined, curling in on himself until he was basically lying in a ball.

Tadashi placed Toru’s bag down beside him, and Kuroo was finally regaining his composure.

“I have to run, but I’ll be back in an hour or two. There’s a really nice bath tub upstairs you can use if you like? You seem like you need it. My make-up bag is up there too if you want.”

“Thanks Kuroo,” Toru said from his ball-like position. It didn’t feel like enough.

“See you guys in a bit,” he said, kissing both Toru and Tadashi on the forehead.

“He’s right,” Tadashi said as their friend locked the door from the outside. “You look like you could use a hot bath.”

Toru glanced up at Tadashi who was now pulling his jacket off. He set it on the back of a chair, and offered Toru his hand.

“Are you going to come with me?” Toru asked, awkwardly placing his left hand in Tadashi’s.

“Course,” Tadashi said, gently pulling him up. “If you want me to anyway.”

Toru nodded, and together they climbed the stairs to the top floor, exploring the fancy townhouse as they went. Clearly Tsukki either had money or had family who did. The place felt warm. The paint was a mixture of ambers and browns, and the light hardwood gave it an almost rustic feel, but the soft glow of the lights kept it feeling homey and warm. Toru loved it, and he felt that it was a perfect fit for Kuroo. He deserved something like this. He’d taken care of so many kids on the streets; it was time someone took care of him.

They found the bathroom. Kuroo hadn’t been lying.

The giant soaker tub sat in the middle of the room, sunken into a raised platform on the floor. There was a stand up shower in the corner, and a soft, white curtain that wound around the edge of the bath tub. The light was on a dimmer switch, and Tadashi set it so it bathed the room in a comfortable, candle-lit type of light.

Tadashi ran the bath, and Toru selected a bubble bath from the row of them on the window sill. Black currant with mint. As he poured it into the stream of water, the smell found its way through the room, and Toru could already feel himself relaxing.

“You should probably keep your arm out of the water, right?” Tadashi asked.

“Right, yeah, I guess so.” He stared, pouting at his right hand. He could take the bandages off, but even then the cuts remained. It would be better to keep them covered and the joint immobile.

“I’ll help you wash your hair,” Tadashi said.

“Really?” Toru asked, caught slightly off guard.

“Of course.”

“Do you want to just come in with me?”

“Uh, you sure?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Ok,” Tadashi replied.

And so they climbed into the bath together, Toru pulling his knees to his chest, and Tadashi stretching out beside him. He kept his hand out of the water, resting it on the edge of the tub. Tadashi took his other hand and unwrapped the bandages, frowning as he revealed the cuts.

“Why did you go back?” Tadashi asked, not making eye contact.

Toru slumped deeper into the water. He knew he should talk about it, but it didn’t make it any easier. This was one of the only people who he could tell without being judged. He took a deep breath.

“He handed me a wad of cash. Like… a large wad of cash. I couldn’t say no…”

“Of course you could. You knew what he was capable of.”

Toru glanced up, making eye contact with his friend. He refused to tell the rest of his reasoning. Tadashi didn’t need to know that his safety would have been at risk if he’d refused.

“Sorry,” Tadashi said. “I get it. So what happened after that?”

Toru sighed. “He told me to go home and change. I had to take all my make up off and put ‘normal’ clothes on, or so he called them.”

“Asshole,” Tadashi commented.

“Yeah. I went back and he basically did the same as last time, but worse, and not just once. Tied me up, blindfolded me, fucked me over and over. He even choked me a couple of times.”

“And you just let him?” Tadashi leaned forward, glancing at the bruises on Toru’s neck.

“I was tied down. I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. I think that was what he wanted…” Toru looked away, feeling brutally ashamed.

“Oh, Toru,” Tadashi said, reaching for his left hand.

He forced a half smile. “I’m ok.”

“I wish I could believe that. I can see from your posture, your words, everything. You’re not ok.”

Toru closed his eyes. He felt like crying, but he couldn’t. Not now.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

He didn’t want to open his eyes, because he knew it would reveal everything. But they refused to stay closed, and the second they opened, they filled with tears.

“What happened?”

Toru pulled the bandage off his head, tilting his eyes toward the ceiling to try to relieve himself of the tears. It wasn’t working.

“Toru,” Tadashi whispered, squeezing his hand tighter.

“I’ve told you about my childhood friend, the one I played volleyball with all through high school and at the start of university?” He couldn’t believe his words were still coherent. Talking about this didn’t even feel possible.

“Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah,” Toru said. The name sounded wrong coming from Tadashi, but somehow it still worked. “I ran into him the other day.”

“Oh my god, when? Where? What happened?”

“He gave me his number, and I threw it away?”

“Why?! You’ve been missing him for four years!”

“That’s not the worst part though,” Toru said.

Tadashi just stared, waiting for him to continue.

His jaw ached, but he couldn’t stop now.

“After I left the hotel with Johnny, I ran into him.”

“Oh god…”

“He’s a doctor…”

“So that’s why… I knew you hated hospitals.”

“He cleaned me up, fixed my jaw and I slept on his couch. He gave me his number again and all but begged me to call.”

“God Toru, and you haven’t?”

“I can’t!”

“But why? Why not allow yourself this one piece of happiness?”

“Because!” His right hand automatically found its way to his jaw as the pain ripped through it.

“Careful,” Tadashi said, lowering his voice.

He felt the tears threatening again. “I can’t let him see what I’ve become.” The words were little more than a whisper, but it was almost more than he could bear.

Tadashi sighed this time. “Do you think he’ll judge you?”

“I know he will. Who wouldn’t? There’s a reason none of us have friends outside of the business.”

“What about Kuroo?” Tadashi asked.

“Kuroo is different. He’s… so much more… I don’t know. Please don’t take offense to that.”

“I’m not. But do you really think that’s all you are?”

“Don’t start. Please.”

“Fine, but what do you think will happen if you talk to him?”

Toru glanced away again. He wasn’t sure how to word this. He took another deep breath. “Look… I know I’ve got my life together. I’m doing what I have to do… but you and I both know that no one on the outside world could understand that. All it will do is make him worry. That’s why I can’t… let him in.”

Tadashi sighed, leaning back, appearing defeated. “I get what you’re saying.”

“Yeah?”

“I do, but I still think you should give him a chance. You know I’m going to support you no matter what you do though.”

They were silent as Tadashi gently washed his hair with one of Kuroo’s nice shampoos. He even conditioned it, massaging Toru’s scalp until he felt more relaxed than he ever remembered feeling. They got out, and Tadashi helped him dress. He wore simple black slim fit pants and a long white turtle neck sweater with lengthy sleeves. He’d picked it out knowing that he could hide the most behind it.

Once they were out, Tadashi picked up a bottle of Rosé from the counter. There was a note that said the two of them should drink it while waiting for Kuroo to get home. They opened it and poured two glasses before collecting Kuroo’s make-up case. Toru pulled the bandage off his cheek and left himself to Tadashi’s faithful hand.

He sat still, letting Tadashi gently brush foundation over his skin, feeling the highlights that he’d learned how to use at school. The guy had serious talent with a make-up brush, just like Kuroo. He felt the eyeshadow brushes on his eyelids, carefully pressing colour into his skin, packing it in all the right places before blending it inward. Eyebrows, lashes and lips followed, and when the mirror found its way into Toru’s hands, he felt like he was home. His eyes were done perfectly with light skin colours blending into dark purples across his eyelids, followed by perfect winged eyeliner. On his lips was a dark pinkish red colour that hid the small cut. There was almost no evidence of Johnny left on his face, save for a bit of swelling in his eye and his lip.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Toru said to Tadashi who grinned childishly back at him.

“Want the bandage back on for your jaw?” Tadashi asked.

“Nah, I’m ok.” He just wanted to feel normal, and the pain wasn’t too bad. The wine was taking care of that.

It wasn’t long before Kuroo returned with their friend Keiji.

“Damn, Toru, that bath was good for you,” Kuroo commented, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as he put down his things.

“It was Tadashi,” he replied. “I can’t do make up like this.” He forced a small smile.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kuroo said, pulling him close into a soft hug.

This time, the smile was real.

He loved his friends.

“Friends, thank you for gathering here on my behalf,” Kuroo said, easily commanding the attention of the room. “I think Ko and maybe Suga will be joining us at some point, but I’m not going to wait on them.”

Toru seated himself on the couch next to Tadashi and the two of them glanced up at their friend. He had an undeniable aura of excitement and happiness about him. Kuroo always radiated positivity and reliability, but something about this was different.

“I’ve kept you in the dark this long, but I feel that I can no longer contain myself. This is a day of celebration with you, my closest friends, for I am officially engaged.”

Kuroo’s eyes lit up as he said it, flashing the sparkling diamond on his ring finger.

Woos and Awws filled the room, and Toru felt the hair stand up on the back of his own neck. It felt strange, given the tingling feeling was for a good reason rather than one of fear. The excitement he felt for his friend was undeniable, and he could hardly contain it, the smile crossing his face was almost painful. He glanced at Tadashi and found the other with tears in his eyes. He instantly felt a prick at the back of his own eyes.

“Kuroo, this is amazing!” Tadashi cried, crashing into him in a hug. Keiji flung himself at him too, and Toru joined the pile.

“Congratulations,” Toru said, “no one deserves this more than you.”

“You’re all too kind,” Kuroo said, tears filling his eyes as well. “And now, we drink!”

He managed to extract himself from the pile long enough to pick up a bottle of champagne and flick the switch on his computer. The room filled with music, and soon glasses found their way into their hands, and they toasted to Kuroo’s engagement.

Toru found his mood uplifted as they sprung question after question on Kuroo.

“That’s the other part,” Kuroo began when asked about his profession. “Tsukki wants me off the streets, and he’s going to pay for me to go to make-up school!”

“What?!” Tadashi demanded. “Kuroo you’re so lucky!”

“I know, I can’t believe it. I’m moving in here as well, so no more dealing with my old shithole with its sky high rent.”

Toru smiled for his friend. He really did deserve all of this, and he couldn’t be happier for him.

“Oh my god I love this song!” Tadashi squealed, dragging Keiji off the couch and attempting to make him dance. Toru, whose knee was still bothering him, declined Tadashi’s invite and was content to sit and watch, sipping on his drink.

“Something I wanted to ask you about,” Kuroo said, plunking down beside him.

“Hm?” Toru hummed, glancing at Kuroo who was now fiddling with the ring on his finger.

“What would you think of taking over some of my regular clients?”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m tired of seeing you like this,” he said, gesturing to Toru’s overall form. The bruises might be covered, but it was no secret that they were still very much there. Kuroo took Toru’s right hand gently in his. “Between your regulars and mine, you’d be on the streets less. I’d feel better knowing you were safer.”

“What about Keiji and Tadashi? Wouldn’t you rather split them among all of us?” Toru looked up at Kuroo’s face as the other boy glanced in his friends’ direction.

“Tadashi has been talking about getting on board with an agency. They take a cut, but he’s thinking more and more that it will be worth it. I don’t think he’s letting on, but what’s happening to you is scaring him. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t tried to push it on you yet.”

“He knows I wouldn’t,” Toru said.

“Fair. As for Keiji, I think he may have something going on with Koutarou. He’s not saying anything, but he just seems… different somehow. He’s been out less and less too. I think he’s almost out.” Kuroo looked back at Toru. “It’s you I’m worried about. Besides, I think my clients would like you a lot. What do you say?”

“I mean, I guess I could give it a shot…”

He was hesitant. It was an outstanding offer. Kuroo had been around forever, and it was usual that the people who had been at it the longest had the best clients, assuming they had something to offer, and Kuroo certainly did. But how was Toru going to live up? He didn’t have half the charisma Kuroo did.

“Think about it, hey?” Kuroo said, kissing Toru’s forehead.

“I will. Thanks,” he said.

“Hey, I got a UV light for gel polish. Want to do your nails?”

“Oh,” he said, his face lighting up. He loved gel polish, it lasted for so long. He’d only had it done once, when Kuroo had taken him to have it done for his birthday. It was quite expensive. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I need the practice now,” Kuroo winked.

“Alright then,” Toru, feeling his smile shine through.

“That’s what I like to see,” Kuroo said, gently touching Toru’s cheek. “Hang on, I’ll get the stuff.”

Toru watched him go, taking off upstairs. Tadashi had Keiji dancing now, and they’d switched from the champagne to wine. They were just asking for a hangover.

Toru brushed off the concern, simply taking in the fact that his friends were happy and smiling. There were so many dark days in their line of work that days like this, where they could all just forget about it, were rare and especially valuable.

Unfortunately, Toru couldn’t quite forget about it.

The pain in his knee and his jaw were difficult to ignore, and he found himself wishing he’d brought along painkillers. Walking wasn’t easy, and the stairs had taken a toll on him. Perhaps if he kept drinking he’d feel it less.

“What colour would you like?” Kuroo asked, placing a large box down beside him.  
“This is what I have.” He handed Toru a smaller box of white nail polish bottles, each with a colour printed on the top.

He studied the colours as Kuroo set up the UV light. He wanted the pastel pink or green, but he knew the colour was staying on for a while, so he should probably use something that would go well with work. Black, probably. That was how he felt.

“No, Toru, we’re not doing black. Do something pretty.” Kuroo said. “You’re not going to be able to work for a while anyway, right?”

“Right…” Toru trailed off. He knew it was true, but he also knew he was probably going to be back at it before he was ready. Old habits died hard, and he definitely needed the money.

He glanced down at his phone, thinking of George. He wondered if he’d be able to go see him tomorrow, or if he should not bother. He decided he’d text him after he had his nails done.

“Alright, I’m picking for you.”

Kuroo held up the soft, pastel green that Toru had been eyeing at first. It was almost the same colour as his high school volleyball uniform.

He felt a sharp pain stab through his knee, but did his best to hide his reaction.

“No? Not into that one?”

“No, it’s good,” he tried to hide the pain in his words, but he knew they’d shine through.

“What hurts?” Kuroo asked.

“Knee…” Toru muttered.

“Ice? Or more wine? Mm, how about both?”

Toru forced a half smile.

“So tell me about make-up school,” Toru asked. He had an ice pack on his knee, a glass of wine in his left hand, and his right was in the grasp of Kuroo who was carefully painting his nails and avoiding his injury. “Have you thought about where you’re applying? Have you talked to Tadashi about it?”

Tadashi was also attending make-up school, though he’d only just started. He was taking it one semester at a time and spacing it out so he could work to pay for it in between. Between the two of them, Toru couldn’t say if one was better than the other. They were both outstanding.

“Oh, I’m already in,” Kuroo said. “I’m going to JCU, though CMT, where Tadashi goes, was my second choice.”

“What? You’re already in? How long have you been planning this? Why didn’t you tell anyone?!” Toru almost ripped his hand out of Kuroo’s grasp, but caught himself as the pain shot through his arm. He winced slightly.

“Careful,” Kuroo said, not missing a beat. “Tsukki told me to apply last month, just to see if I’d get in. I got accepted on Monday, and that’s where I went today. I handed in all of my forms and I officially start in six weeks.” Kuroo didn’t look up from what he was doing, but Toru could feel the excitement in him. No wonder he’d seemed different recently.

“Wow, that’s amazing. Congrats, Kuroo. Seriously, you deserve this.”

“Thanks,” Kuroo smiled. “Put your fingers in here,” he offered him the small UV light heater. Toru did as he was told, though he couldn’t bend his thumb, so he had to wait for a second round.

His nails looked amazing, and he couldn’t stop smiling at them.

“Like them?”

“Kuroo, I love them,” Toru grinned. “Thank you so much.” He managed to jump on Kuroo, grasping him in a hug. His body felt dead, but his face and his nails were pretty. He felt free.

“Oh good,” Kuroo said, hugging him back. “So, Tadashi told me that there may or may not be a guy on your horizons.”

Toru glared as Kuroo caught Tadashi’s eye with his name. His friend’s face was flushed with alcohol.

“What?” Tadashi exclaimed, having only heard his name.

“Toru’s guy,” Kuroo said.

“IWA-CHAN!” Tadashi shouted.

Toru’s forehead found the palm of his left hand so fast he hardly realized it.

“Oops, was I not supposed to say anything? I just said there _might_ be a guy.”

Toru sighed loudly. “It’s fiiiine,” he whined.

He filled Keiji and Kuroo in as he had done with Tadashi earlier that day. Keiji was quiet as he usually was, but Kuroo fully backed Tadashi.

“You haven’t called him? Not even to thank him for patching you up?!”

“No, didn’t you hear me? I don’t want him to have a way of contacting me.”

“You could send him a letter,” Keiji suggested.

Toru glared at him.

“What about calling from a pay phone?” Tadashi suggested.

“Do those still exist?”

“You could use my phone,” Kuroo offered. “Say you don’t have one?”

“He knows I have one.”

“Say it’s broken?”

“I mean, I could…”

“Toru just text him. What’s he going to do, bombard you with questions?” Kuroo asked.

“Probably, you don’t know Iwa-chan. He already bombarded me with questions. I had to threaten him, saying I’d leave if he didn’t stop.”

“Well think about how you would have felt if he’d showed up at your door, bloody and broken,” Tadashi said.

“Fair point,” Toru sighed. “Ok, what if I text him from your phone, Kuroo, and say mine is broken.”

“If he has a brain he’s going to know you’re lying, but I think it’s better than nothing,” Kuroo said.

“Ok, let’s do it. You guys have to help me though.”

While Kuroo and Tadashi were both quite tipsy and less than helpful, Keiji was sober enough to not only help him compose a message, but to encourage him to keep going each and every time he got discouraged or worked up. 

Keiji held his hand while he pressed send, and Toru literally burst into tears the second the message was gone. 

He didn't ask questions, he didn't criticize, he just held Toru as he cried into his shoulder, stroking his hair and rubbing circles into his back. 

Keiji didn't normally have words. Toru would say it was normal for him, but he knew it wasn't. It was the result of everything he'd been through since starting his work on the streets. He'd been through more than most of them. When he spoke now it was often forced. They all knew it, and no one pushed him. 

But right now Toru didn't need words. 

He just needed this. 

Keiji offered him his hand, and Toru took it, squeezing tightly. 

And Keiji squeezed back. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey George, it’s Jade. How’s it going?”

“Evening, Jade,” the man’s voice seemed to light up. “I’m well thanks, and you?”

“Doing ok,” Toru said. “Look, I’m calling about tomorrow night. I’m available, but I’m, how do I put this, not going to be able to provide my usual level of service…” he trailed off.

“Are you ok?” His voice held pure concern.

“Yeah, I am. I’m just… kind of injured. I would still like to join you, and I can give you a discount, but yeah, I’m not entirely functional right now.” Toru sighed, closing his eyes against the humiliation. He really should have rehearsed this before he made this phone call.

“You know, I’m feeling a bit under the weather myself. What do you say to wine, fine cigars, and perhaps some dinner at the apartment? Though if you really don’t feel well, please don’t feel obligated.”

Bless that man’s heart, he thought to himself.

“That sounds perfect. Any special requests?”

“Just dress in your favourite outfit.” He could hear the smile in George’s voice. It was infectious.

“I can do that.”

Toru hung up the phone just as it vibrated again. He looked down at the unfamiliar number and opened the message.

**It’s Johnny. Tomorrow night.**

Toru felt his heart rate pick up. How had he gotten his number?

He wasn’t sure how to reply. He could feel himself panicking.

**Hi Johnny. Sorry, but I need to take some time to allow my body to heal.**

Hopefully that would suffice. Would he try to convince him otherwise? Would he try to force him or threaten him.

The reply was quick. And Toru was afraid to look.

**Fine.**

~*~*~*~*~

True to his word, Toru dressed in his favourite semi formal outfit. A fancy, long-sleeved white blouse was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted light blue jeans, finished with a light brown belt around his hips. The blouse was the most expensive piece of clothing he owned, and it could be worn with the cuffs down to the wrist or rolled up his forearms. While he typically preferred to wear it as a ¾ length sleeve, he decided against it today hoping to hide some of the impact he knew his injuries would hold. He tied a short shear white scarf with soft rose gold patterns embroidered into it around his neck and slipped his feet into a pair of tan linen lace up shoes with a slight heal on them. He loved these shoes but wore them very infrequently as he was worried they would get ruined. He pulled a sleek, long navy blazer over top as a jacket and stared in the mirror. He loved how it slimmed him out and made him look taller. He couldn’t suppress a small grin and it forced its way onto his face.

He felt pretty, but classy at the same time. His nails were still perfect, and while he had some trouble with his bad hand and his make-up brush, he managed. His eye shadow was soft green and mint to match his finger nails, and while he’d left off the dramatic liquid eyeliner, his mascara was on point. Golden bronze covered his lips, adding to the gentle expression that masked his insecurities. He even pulled out his old brown-framed glasses that he no longer bothered to wear. He didn’t need to see a world so ugly in such detail.

Despite everything that had happened, despite the fact that his body still felt like he’d been hit by a train, he felt alright walking out the door. His knee still hurt, but he was taking the bus to George’s more upscale end of town. He felt mostly relaxed, aside from the fact that he hadn’t received a reply from Iwa-chan on Kuroo’s phone. It kind of made sense though, as he did work 12 hour shifts.

Toru let himself into the 15th floor apartment, and was surprised to find the lights on. Had the cleaner forgotten to turn them off?

Then he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Evening, Jade.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin.

“George, oh my god you scared me!” Toru felt his rapid pulse and heavy breathing and he laid his hand on his chest. “Why are you here so early?” _And why are you drinking white wine?_

“I mentioned dinner, didn’t I?” George asked, waving a wooden spoon in his hand not occupied by the wine glass.

“Oh wow, I didn’t expect you to cook,” he said. His jaw felt sore just at the thought. He’d been expecting take out or delivery or something. “You look nice, by the way.”

George was dressed in black dress pants and a lavender dress shirt, but there was something casual about the way he wore it, or maybe it was the fact that the shirt looked a bit big on him. It was also unbuttoned at the top. Either way, it made him feel better as he certainly wasn’t dressed in the same quality clothing.

“Thank you, Jade. You look wonderful as always.”

The man had a way of speaking that held power, yet housed a certain tranquility in his words. Seeing him like this, dressed as he was, cooking, speaking, it really made Toru wonder why he hadn’t searched for another man. But who was he to question? He couldn’t imagine finding the love of his life and losing him.

“Would you like a glass of wine? This is a chardonnay from Italy. They’re traditionally known for their heavy reds, but I found this at a small family vineyard not 6 years ago. I couldn’t resist. Micah never cared for white, so there’s a fair few bottles left.”

He was rambling, and it made Toru wonder if he was nervous. But then his composure seemed to be completely intact, not that he was to judge as he’d never seen this man in these circumstances. He looked so natural with a glass of wine in his hand, standing over a stove. It made his heart ache all over again for George.

“Yes, please,” Toru said, nodding and kicking his shoes off.

He followed George into the kitchen area. While it was visible from the sitting area and the bedroom, he’d never spent much time in this half of the apartment. It was strange seeing real pots on the stove, real noise coming from the fume hood, real smells coming from the room itself.

“Are you alright with white?” He asked, a slight accent coming through in his words. “I can open a bottle of red if you prefer?”

“No, no, white is fine,” Toru said. He actually preferred white wine, but at the end of the day it was just wine, and it wasn’t something he could afford to take a serious interest in. He liked how invested George was, and it made him more curious about it.

“Here you are, dear boy,” George said, turning to him and handing the glass. “Oh my, what have you done to yourself?”

He’d obviously taken note of Toru’s hand, and he knew that his limp was probably hard to miss visually and audibly.

“I, um, had a run in with an old… friend.” Once again, he found himself wishing he’d rehearsed this before he’d arrived.

“Your eye is swollen as well,” George observed, getting a better look and nearly touching Toru’s cheek. “And your jaw?”

He was certainly observant, Toru thought to himself.

“It was a rough night. I’m ok, though,” Toru admitted. “I’m afraid I can’t open my jaw very wide thought, hence why I, uh, might be limited in my attempts to service you tonight.”

“Ah worry not, Jade. I am ashamed to admit that I was simply seeking the company of a friend tonight. And don’t worry, I’ll be paying you the usual. It seems that this is the best option for both of us.”

“Is everything ok?” Toru asked, slightly confused.

“Ah well, um, yes. I will explain. But first, we drink, and then we eat.”

George held up his glass in cheers, and Toru tapped his against it, momentarily examining the patterns in the glass. These were different from the ones they normally used; white wine glasses, he assumed.

“Lucky for your injured jaw, I’ve concocted a soup. I’m afraid I’m unsure of how it will taste though, as I’ve never made it before.” He lifted the lid of the large pot, smelling his creation.

“Oh wow, do you cook often?” He asked. It was something they’d never really talked about.

“Mm, not anymore. I used to enjoy it back in the day.”

“I’m sure it will be fantastic.”

“Well I’ll let you be the judge of that. Would you like to sample it? It’s almost finished.”

Toru tried it and found that it tasted delicious. It couldn’t have been more perfect for his current predicament. He couldn’t open his mouth wide enough for real food, and he found that it warmed him from the inside as he sipped it quietly.

“Jade, are you sure you’re alright? I’m concerned for your wellbeing. This is the second time you’ve arrived looking as though you’ve been in a fight.” George said, eyeing him carefully.

“Oh, no, I don’t fight. Trust me, I couldn’t if I tried.”

“An old friend, you say? Was it the same old friend as before?”

“Er, yeah. I keep running into him.”

“Forgive my insensitivity, but I like to think that a friend would not befall you those injuries. I know your line of work, and it only concerns me further. Is there something I can do?”

Toru closed his eyes, cursing himself for not coming up with a more believable story. He didn’t want to make this man worry for him _or_ pity him.

“I appreciate your concern, really I do. But I’m ok. I have no intention of returning to that client,” he said, unsure if it was really true. He hadn’t allowed himself to think to that extent yet.

“Mm, alright then. Let me just say that you’ve grown quite important to me in our time together. And if there is anything I can do to help, just say the word.”

Toru would never ask.

Never.

They finished their meal, approaching lighter topics and sipping on the white wine. Toru actually found it delicious, a notion that he expressed to the older man. George was quite delighted and was determined to share more white wines with him.

“We could do a tasting if you like, I have a good number of whites put away for no particular occasion.”

“You don’t need to spoil me like that, George. You remember what I am and why I’m here, right?”

“Jade, don’t dumb yourself down. You’re a brilliant young man with a bright future. And if I’m not mistaken, you have someone on your mind, am I wrong?”

Toru’s heart nearly stopped. How could he tell? Was that why he’d claimed to be under the weather? Is that why he was rejecting sex.

“Stop panicking, Jade. It’s a simple observation of an ex-psychiatrist. I saw it on you the last time you were here.”

Toru glanced away, sipping his wine.

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. You know that at the end of the day, I only want what’s best for you.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, regaining his composure as he sipped his wine. He could feel the beginning of a wine buzz, and he knew he needed to keep himself under control. He was on the job, after all. “What about you? You said you’ve been feeling under the weather?”

“Ah,” George said, his tone changing completely. “Yes, there’s that. I suppose I should share with you.”

Toru set his glass down, pushing his now empty bowl away from him.

“There is no easy way to say this, Jade. I’ve been diagnosed with terminal lymphoma. It was discovered recently in my cerebrospinal fluid.”

Toru felt his heart drop into his stomach.

No.

This wasn’t happening.

“You’re joking…” he said, the words escaping before he could contain them.

“A part of me wishes I was. But at the same time, I’ve come to terms with it. I’m ready, Jade. I’m ready to join my dear Micah.”

“What about treatment?” Toru demanded, losing all aspects of his composure.

“Limited options, none likely to cure me in the end.”

“So you’re just going to let it kill you?” He knew his tone was nearly frantic, his words demanding. It was so unprofessional he could hardly stand it. But what else was he going to say?

“Mm, it’s not quite like that,” George said calmly. He picked up the bottle of wine and refilled both their glasses. “You’ve heard of medical assistance in dying?”

Medical suicide. He almost blurted out the words, but he held back. “Yes.”

“I want to go on my own terms. Is that selfish of me, Jade?”

Toru took a deep breath. This was all happening way too fast. It was only now that he was realizing what this man really meant to him.

“I watched Micah suffer so much during his treatments, all in attempt to stay here for me. I don’t want to suffer like that, nor do I owe it to anyone to stay. It’s my time to go, and I’ve fully accepted that.”

Toru couldn’t find words. It was all too much. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to comfort George. He felt so lost…

“I have a question to ask you, Jade. A personal one. You need not answer, but know that it would mean a great deal to me.”

“Anything,” Toru whispered. He could feel the tears stinging at the backs of his eyes. He fought hard to contain them.

“Would you tell me your real name?” George’s words were so personal, so vulnerable.

“Oikawa,” he said. “Oikawa Toru.” It was almost automatic. He was ready to spit it out minutes ago, before George had even asked.

“Toru,” George whispered. “It’s as beautiful as you.” The smile was so raw on his face. His eyes were closed, hand wrapped around the stem of his crystal wine glass. “Toru.”

“Is George your real name?” He asked anxiously.

“Almost,” he said, “Gregory. Gregory Naikazaki.”

“Gregory,” Toru echoed. “It’s nice to formally meet you.”

He wasn’t sure what prompted it, but he held up his glass once more in cheers. Gregory held his up as well.

“You as well, Toru.”

The evening was lovely. They continued to drink wine, simply enjoying each other’s company. Gregory asked him a couple more times if there was anything he could do, but Toru stubbornly refused. As it grew darker and darker, they went to bed together. They kissed gently, but they didn’t engage in any sexual acts. Gregory insisted that at this point it was too personal, though Toru offered profusely.

It wasn’t the first time he’d spent the night with a client, though Toru hardly considered him that anymore. When he woke in the morning though, he was alone, and he cried. He worried it would be the last time he saw the man. A man who had come to mean more to him that he could have imagined. He’d been the first person in his line of work that proved to him that human beings who bought prostitutes could still be decent people.

A part of him knew that it was the last time they would be together. Gregory had obviously left earlier, saving both of them a very painful goodbye. But it still hurt. He couldn’t help that.

Teary eyed, Toru picked up his phone from the ground beside the bed.

13 missed calls.

9 new messages.

All from Kuroo

His heart started racing again.

He opened the first message, and his racing heart nearly stopped.

**Kuroo: Fuck Toru, it’s Tadashi. Get your ass to the hospital immediately!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Your kudos and comments give me life. 
> 
> Brutality will likely resume next chapter... 
> 
> I am curious though... any predictions? Thoughts on what you'd like to see happen? I would love to hear from you ♡
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at http://superiortechnology.tumblr.com  
> (don't judge me for my shitty blog I'm new at this)
> 
> Update: Akaashi's story? Anyone interested?

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on the song Ill Lit Ships by Blaqk Audio. Go listen to it. 
> 
> I have other ideas for this fic... it could potentially be longer. Thoughts?  
> Thank you for reading :) I hope I haven't ruined your day too badly... 
> 
> So you say this room is just for one night,  
> but they never will let you go.  
> Just let them come inside,  
> and this never will let you go,  
> no it never will let you go.


End file.
